And Then There Were Two
by Andie17
Summary: There's a new slayer in town. How will Buffy take it? Or, more importantly, how will Spike take it? r/r COMPLETED
1. Home Sweet Hellmouth

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters we all know and love (unfortunately, cuz I could use the cash), Joss does, God bless him. A/N - This story takes place a few weeks after Buffy gets brought back to life by the remaining Scoobies. Spike never had a thing for Buffy. The Nerd Herd hasn't formed. Please r/r. I need to boost my confidence, so please be gentle.  
  
***** Chapter 1: Home Sweet Hellmouth *****  
  
Andrea sped down the California highway, her long, blonde hair whipping wildly around her head. She glanced in the rearview mirror to make sure the U-haul was still attached to her shiny, black convertible. She sighed as she made the turnoff to Sunnydale, her new home. Turning down the volume on her car stereo, she effectively softened the angry ranting of Alanis Morisset. Loud music just didn't seem to fit the atmosphere. She slowed when she reached the street on which her new house was located.  
  
Trees lined the picturesque street. Andrea removed her stylish sunglasses in order to fully absorb the prettiness of Sunnydale, California.  
  
A soft meow came from the seat next to her and she glanced over at the plexiglass cage that contained her best friend in the world, Jill the cat. The pretty calico didn't look happy. "It's okay, gorgeous girl. Here now," she soothed.  
  
She pulled into the driveway of 1704 Revello Drive. Shutting off the ignition, she exited. Andrea picked Jill's cage up off the passenger seat and trudged tiredly up the steps to her new house. She unlocked the wooden front door of the two-floor red brick residence, slowly placing Jill's cage just inside the door to let her out.  
  
Spotting her spot on the couch that had been previously brought into the house, Jill flew toward the dark green sofa to curl up and take a nap. Again.  
  
Andrea rolled her eyes and went back outside to the U-haul so she could empty her belongings into her home.  
  
At 21, Andrea Smith had done pretty well in life, if she did say so herself. Of course, her life was by no means typical. But she preferred not to focus on her abnormalities.  
  
She's had all her larger belongings, like her bed, television, couch, basically all her furniture transported from Canada earlier in the week. Of course, she had overseen the placement, so everything was where it should be. All she had to do now was unpack her clothes, books, etc.  
  
And then, she had to patrol. * * * Bored out of her mind, Andrea hummed softly as she strolled through one of Sunnydale's many cemeteries. Lots of dead people king of came with the territory when you lived on the Hellmouth.  
  
"Hey, check it out, Mike. Fresh meat." She whirled at the sudden sound of voices behind her and tapped her fingers on her arm in an irritated way, making certain the vamps couldn't see her stake.  
  
"And the meat is foxxy." Mike gave a raspy chuckle as he licked his fangs. Andrea rolled her eyes.  
  
"Dream on. You two couldn't get any if your lives depended on it." They rushed her and she clothes-lined one, side-kicking the other in the stomach. She pushed her knee into Mike's face none too gently and staked his friend as he doubled over on the ground in pain. "This is starting to get way too easy," Andrea mumbled to herself as she bent and dusted Mike the vamp. "Damn Americans."  
  
"Pretty fancy moves, there, kitten," came an amused voice, tinted with a British accent, from behind her. She glanced over her shoulder at the man who, evidently, had been watching from behind the wall of the crypt to her left, before turning to face him completely. The man walked toward her, blue eyes glinting with humour. She raised her stake again and he backed off, raising his hands in a defensive gesture as the audacious smirk fell away from his face. His features were sharp, handsome, but not classically so. "Whoa, pet."  
  
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you." Andrea's hazel gaze flickered over his face, vivid blue eyes and spiky, bleached-blond hair, black leather duster, combat boots and black apparel. The jeans hugged his narrow hips, tee-shirt showing off rippled abs. He didn't look like he wanted to hurt her, but you could never be too careful.  
  
"Easy, love. I just came over for a chat." He nodded at her stake. "I'd appreciate it if you tried to keep Mr. Sharp and Pointy over there away from me." She lowered the stake and pushed a few strands of her long, golden hair over her shoulder, but never took her eyes off him. She was still suspicious of him.  
  
"You're a vampire." He nodded.  
  
"But I don't bite." He continued, pointing to his head. "Captain Cardboard and his lot tagged me with a little toy surprise. Long story, really." Realization swept over her pretty face.  
  
"Oh, right. You must be Spike. I've read about you." Spike frowned.  
  
"Did you now? News to me." He shrugged. "So you new in town? Don't recall seeing 'round these parts before."  
  
"Yeah, I just moved here. I'm the slayer."  
  
"Lovely," Spike noted sarcastically, shoving his hands into his jean pockets, which only succeeded in causing Andrea to notice how muscled his thighs were. Then, more to himself then to her, he murmured, "Two of them again. We all know how well that worked out the first two times." His gaze flickered toward her, hoping to spot a reaction, but she hadn't heard him. She looked at him strangely for a moment, then, shrugging, turned to leave.  
  
"See you around."  
  
"Wait," he called. She stopped walking and glanced back at him.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"You never told me your name." She smiled slightly.  
  
"Andrea. My name is Andrea." Then she disapproved around a corner.  
  
* * * "So you're telling us that there's another slayer in town," concluded Dawn.  
  
"Yeah, little bit, that's what I'm saying," Spike answered patiently.  
  
"Why wasn't I informed?" Giles wondered aloud.  
  
"Please come spend more money here soon." This came from behind the counter. The bell on the door to the Magic Box sounded as another satisfied customer left the shop. Spike sighed at Anya's bluntness.  
  
"Well, it makes sense," agreed Willow. She leaned forward and folded her arms on the table. "Buffy did die. Again."  
  
"At this rate, by the time she actually stays dead, we'll have populated the world with slayers," observed Xander.  
  
"What did I miss?" asked Buffy, strolling out of her training room to join the Scoobies at the table.  
  
"New slayer in town." Dawn took the liberty of informing her sister of the new development. Buffy raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Again? Well, that does it. I really have to stop dying."  
  
"It would save us a lot of trouble," commented Willow darkly, brushing her red hair behind her shoulder. Giles, turning to Spike, folded his arms over his chest.  
  
"Did she say what her name was?" he inquired. Spike nodded.  
  
"Just her first name. Said it was Andrea."  
  
"What did she look like?" asked Dawn absentmindedly. Spike cocked his head, conjuring up the image of the woman he'd observed in the cemetery.  
  
"Pretty. Blonde hair. Too dark to see her eyes."  
  
"Go out and find her tonight. Bring her back to my house," said Buffy.  
  
"Don't say please or anything," mumbled Spike sarcastically. 


	2. Meet the Scoobies

***** Chapter 2: Meet the Scoobies *****  
  
The Bronze. Evidently, it was where people like her hung out on Saturday nights. Andrea squeezed between two guys, trying her hardest to get to the bar. Sitting on a stool, she ordered her drink. The bartender handed her a Pepsi, which she sipped slowly as she scanned the crowd.  
  
She was dressed casually in a tight-fitting blue sparkly halter top and flared blue jeans. Her golden hair hung loose around her shoulders. The band playing was loud and fast. People were dancing, or, more accurately, trying to dance. Andrea stood and was walking to a red sofa on the other side of the room when she was stopped by a man of about 25. "Wanna dance?" he asked hopefully. She forced a smile.  
  
"No, thank you." She moved to walk around him, but he stepped into her way.  
  
"Come on, sweet thing. Dance with me." He put his hand on her shoulder and tried to pull her onto the dance floor. She swatted his hand away.  
  
"Look, I said no, you ignorant -"  
  
"There you are, kitten. I've been looking all over for you." Spike pulled her into his arms so suddenly that she had to grab handfuls of his duster to keep from toppling over. He brought her up to meet his lips with hers, his hands caressing her waist.  
  
"Oh, sorry, man. I didn't know," sputtered the man, backing away to fade into the crowd. Andrea slowly pulled away from Spike, wetting her lips nervously. She felt colour rush to her cheeks.  
  
"Thanks, Spike."  
  
"No problem. You looked like you could use a hand."  
  
"Some guys just can't take a hint."  
  
"Forget it." Realizing he was still stroking her waist, he dropped his hands away quickly, as if she'd burned him. She inhaled deeply.  
  
"Did you want something?" she asked, attempting to regain her composure.  
  
"Uh, yeah. Come with me."  
  
"What?" Her brow furrowed. She looked cute when she was confused, Spike noticed, before shoving away the completely irrelevant thought.  
  
"Please, love. Just trust me." He took her hand and tried to lead her to the door, but she stayed stubbornly still. "Why should I?"  
  
"No reason you should." She saw the challenging glint in his eyes that dared her to refuse. She paused.  
  
"Where are we going?" He smirked all-knowingly and pulled her out of the club.  
  
* * *  
  
"Who's house is this?" Andrea asked suspiciously.  
  
"It's okay. We're friendly. Most of the time." He led her up the walkway by the elbow and pounded on the door. Buffy opened the door and her gaze flickered over Andrea before she moved aside to let them in.  
  
"Hi," greeted Buffy. "I'm Buffy Summers." She stuck out a hand, which Andrea shook absentmindedly.  
  
"Andrea Smith."  
  
"Spike was right," said Dawn. "She is pretty." Andrea shot a sideways glance at Spike, who shrugged. Buffy led her into the living room and introduced her to everyone.  
  
"So," Andrea said after she'd heard the names of everyone in the room. "Not that I'm not grateful for the hospitality, but why am I here?"  
  
"We thought it best to meet you," answered Giles, rubbing the lenses of his glasses with a handkerchief. "Seeing as you claim your the slayer."  
  
"I am," Andrea said defensively.  
  
"Yes, well, so is Buffy." Andrea frowned. She had that oh-so-cute confused look again.  
  
"But she'd have to have-"  
  
"She did," said Willow.  
  
"But she's-"  
  
"We brought her back," explained Anya. "We were sick of her being dead."  
  
"Oh." Andrea seemed to take this amazingly well. She shrugged. "Okay. So. . . what now?"  
  
"We hadn't really thought that far ahead," admitted Xander.  
  
"We could patrol together," Buffy suggested. "Is that alright?"  
  
"Uh, yeah. Might be nice."  
  
"Do you think she's prettier than me?" Anya asked Xander suddenly. Xander looked startled and Spike smirked at his predicament.  
  
"Uh, um, no," he sputtered.  
  
"Good." Anya folded her hands on her lap in a satisfied way. Andrea smiled at Xander's obvious uncomfortableness. "Now that we're done with the intruder, we can get back to Buffy's lack of funds."  
  
"Blunt, isn't she," Andrea mumbled softly.  
  
"She's an ex-vengeance demon," Spike explained, leaning back against the wall.  
  
"Oh." She folded her arms over her stomach, more for lack of anything else to do than for a specific reason. Willow glanced at Andrea apologetically.  
  
"Buffy, would you rather discuss this in private?" Willow asked. "No offense or anything, Andrea, but we did just meet."  
  
"No problem. I can leave."  
  
"It's okay. You don't have to leave. The topic was getting depressing anyway. We can talk about something else. Sit. Get comfortable." Andrea slowly sat down in a chair next to the couch. "You're our guest. What would you like to talk about?"  
  
"Why don't you tell me about yourselves," she suggested.  
  
"I'm in construction," supplied Xander proudly.  
  
"Anya and I own the magic shop down town," said Giles, adjusting his glasses.  
  
"Willow and Tara are students at UC Sunnydale. They're witches," said Dawn, who then frowned. "Where is Tara?"  
  
"She went to a convention out of town for one of her classes," answered Willow.  
  
"Tara?" asked Andrea, confused. "My girlfriend."  
  
"Oh." She'd said that a lot in the short span of time she'd been in Buffy's house. These people were just chalked full of surprises.  
  
"Dawn goes to high school, Spike hangs around us for no apparent reason-" started Buffy.  
  
"I bloody well do not," interjected Spike. "I'm helping you fight the big nasties." Andrea smiled at his indignity.  
  
"Sure, you are Spike," she joked. "Just keep telling yourself that." Buffy turned to Giles, grinning.  
  
"I like her already." Spike mumbled something about mutiny, but Andrea couldn't hear him.  
  
"What about you Buffy?"  
  
"I don't really do anything." She frowned.  
  
"She's just pretty much adjusting to not being dead," contributed Dawn tiredly.  
  
"Makes sense." Andrea nodded.  
  
"So, when did you get here?" asked Xander.  
  
"I just arrived in Sunnydale yesterday morning. I spent the day unpacking my junk, then I met Spike when I was patrolling." She crossed her legs unconsciously, unaware that Spike had seen the unintentionally provocative movement. She pushed a stray lock of blonde hair behind her pierced ear. Spike cocked his head and let his intense blue gaze stray lazily over her.  
  
"You're not American, are you pet?" Andrea frowned.  
  
"How did you know that?" she asked softly.  
  
"Last night when you were fighting those vamps, you called them damn Americans." She smiled at his observation.  
  
"I'm Canadian."  
  
"Wow. Did you fly here?" asked Willow.  
  
"No, I drove," she answered patiently.  
  
"You have a car?" Dawn asked, clearly amazed.  
  
"Yeah," Andrea admitted timidly. "Aren't I supposed to?"  
  
"No, it's good. Good to have a car," Buffy said hurriedly. "It's just that Giles is the only one of us who has a car."  
  
"Oh. Okay." Xander leaned forward, elbows on his knees.  
  
"Where do you live?" he asked.  
  
"Yes," joined Anya. "Do you enjoy your personal space?" she asked with a smile. Andrea grinned.  
  
"Yeah, I guess so. I live just over there." She pointed in the general direction of her house.  
  
"You live in the corner of Buffy's house?" asked Willow, misunderstanding.  
  
"No, I live just down the street."  
  
"Well, that makes things easier on everyone involved," observed Giles Britishly. 


	3. It's My House

***** Chapter 3: It's My House *****  
  
"Speaking of home," she said, glancing at her watch. "I'd better get there before the sun comes up. Jill will be mad at me if I don't feed her." Dawn frowned.  
  
"Jill?"  
  
"My cat," Andrea clarified as she stood.  
  
"Wow, she has a cat." It was clear who Dawn's new role model was fast becoming.  
  
"Andrea, where is your watcher?" asked Giles curiously.  
  
"Probably Tahiti or something. He didn't really like being my watcher. 'She's an unruly part of society. She won't vote. I'm just upset because I'm not getting any,'" she imitated. Spike snorted with barely suppressed laughter.  
  
"I see," Giles assured, cleaning his glasses again. Andrea sighed.  
  
"Well, I guess I'll see you guys later." She paused, halfway to the door. "You guys don't go to church or anything, do you?" Buffy shook her head. "Okay. Goodnight." She opened the door.  
  
"I'll walk you home, love," said Spike suddenly.  
  
"Uh, okay."  
  
"Spike just feels that he needs to assert his masculinity," said Buffy. "He feels bad because he's not the biggest, baddest vamp in Sunnydale anymore." Andrea grinned. Spike had walked over to join her at the door. She lightly pinched his cheek and spoke in a terribly patronizing tone.  
  
"Aw, poor wittle Spike. He's so cute."  
  
"Funny," he growled. Andrea was suddenly struck by how sexy his accent- lilted voice was. And he was looking at her like it was a hot summer afternoon and she was an ice cream cone. She licked her lips nervously as her grin faded, turning her attention back to the Scoobies.  
  
"Bye." She stepped out onto the porch through the open door, which Spike closed behind him. He led her down the front steps and to the sidewalk. He then shoved his hands into his pockets and looked at his feet thoughtfully as they strolled down Revello Drive.  
  
Andrea was different, he thought. She hadn't shunned him the way other people might have. Instead, she had treated him like a man. And she was attracted to him. That much he could see in her hazel eyes. He wanted to kiss her luscious lips until the amused glint in her eyes had been replaced by one of heady desire. Until she moaned in pleasure. Until she begged him to touch her, to take her. He wanted to drag his fingers, then his lips, over her smooth, creamy skin.  
  
"What are you thinking?" Her sudden, unexpected and intimate question took him off guard, startling him out of his fantasy. He stopped, considering whether or not he should tell her the truth.  
  
"Nothing." Instead of outright lying, he chose to dismiss the question. They began the stroll down the street again.  
  
"Spike,"she began softly, "can I ask you a question?"  
  
"Can't promise you I can answer it, love."  
  
"How bad are Buffy's money problems?" It was the second time in as many minutes Andrea had surprised him with a question.  
  
"Why does it matter to you, pet? You don't even know us."  
  
"I'd like to help." He snorted.  
  
"Even if you could, I doubt Buffy would accept any cash you tried to give her."  
  
"How bad is it?"  
  
"After her mum died, she left a nice chunk of change for Dawn and Buffy, but when Buffy was temporarily six feet under the money got spent. Food, clothing. You know. Life's little perks. It's getting pretty bad." Andrea remained silent as a light breeze unsettled her silky hair. They walked in silence for a few moments before a shrill beeping pierced the relaxing quiet that had settled over them. She reached behind her and her hand came back holding something Spike had failed to notice earlier. "I didn't know you had a pager." She glanced up at him, replacing the beeper.  
  
"There's a lot of things you don't know about me," she said grimly. She directed them up the walkway to her house. Unlocking the door, she stepped inside. Spike stopped at the doorway.  
  
"I'll just go," he said, starting to back away from the cozy little home. Andrea gazed at him, an unidentifiable emotion flickering through her eyes.  
  
"Come in, Spike," she invited softly, eliminating the invisible barrier in her doorway. He smiled slightly, stepping inside to look around. To his right, a kitchen, his left, the living room. Stairs in front of him led presumably to the master bed- and bathrooms, maybe a study. Andrea tossed her pager and keys onto an end table under a mirror next to the door. "Welcome to my place."  
  
"It's nice," he said truthfully.  
  
"You should feel privileged. You're the first person besides me who's been here since I moved in." He smiled. Spike looked as if he wanted to say something, but stopped when Jill came running to greet them from the living room. She sat down in front of Andrea and cocked her head disapprovingly. "I was only gone for a few hours." Jill meowed shortly and stalked toward Spike, who bent down and held out his hand toward her.  
  
"Hi there, uh, kitten." He smiled at the pun as Jill sniffed his fingers before rubbing her head endearingly against his hand. He scratched her behind the ears and stood. "Well, love," he said to Andrea. "Feel like giving me the grand tour?" 


	4. Q & A

***** Chapter 4: Q & A *****  
  
"Uh, sure," she stammered. Seeing Spike in her home, surrounded by everything familiar to her, she felt a tingle of desire travel up her spine. And now he wanted to see her bedroom. Lovely. While we're at it, let's get naked and roll around in the sack. She felt colour tinge her cheeks and Spike gave her a funny look. She stamped her emotions back down. "Living room's not real special. Kitchen's over here." She led him up the stairs, accidentally providing him with a great view of her ass. He bit back a groan. Reaching the top of the stair case, she turned and smiled knowingly at him as his gaze traveled guiltily up her body to her face. He glanced around. They were in a hallway. "The guest bedroom is down there. This is the bathroom and my bedroom's down there," she said hurriedly. She tried to maneuver back to the stairs, but Spike stepped in her way, his hands moving to her upper arms.  
  
"Can I see it?" His voice was raspy as he asked. She swallowed.  
  
"See what? My bedroom?" she asked, feigning composure. When Spike nodded, as she'd known he would, she exhaled deeply. She had hoped he wouldn't say that. "Uh. . .Alright." She slowly turned and walked to the closed wooden door at the end of the hall. Andrea turned the brass knob and gently swung the door open.  
  
The femininely decorated room had dark blue walls, and a plush gray carpet. A cherry dresser was pushed against a wall, trinkets and bobbles scattered over its smooth, polished surface. A matching double bed was converging to the corner of the room. A balcony outside was visible through a sliding glass door. The bed sheets were rumpled, presumably from the night before. "Yeah," said Andrea, more to break the uncomfortable silence than anything else. "So this is my bedroom."  
  
"Earlier you told me there was a lot of things that I don't know about you," Spike said. Andrea arched an eyebrow as he turned and left the room. She followed him down the stairs to the kitchen.  
  
"There is."  
  
"Maybe we can remedy that, love." It was spoken casually enough, but the seductive glint in his eyes as he leaned back against her counter supported the probability of a double entendre.  
  
"How's that?" she asked cautiously. She wasn't even sure she wanted to know. He motioned to the kitchen table, indicating that she should sit down. She refrained from pointing out that she didn't need an invitation to sit down, seeing as they were in her house, instead pulling out a chair and seating herself. Spike followed suit.  
  
"Chocolate or vanilla?" he asked. She frowned.  
  
"What?" He repeated the question. "Uh. . .Chocolate." He smiled. "That's an easy one." "Coke or Pepsi?" Andrea snorted, as though the answer were only too obvious. "Pepsi."  
  
"All right, love. I got a hard one for you." He smirked. "The Rock or The Last Castle?" Andrea's eyes widened at the reference to two of her favourite movies.  
  
"I won't choose. You can't make me." Spike laughed softly at her determination not to pick between the two films.  
  
"Books or movies?" He already knew the answer to this question, though. It had been evident when he'd peaked into the 'guest bedroom.' Guest bedroom his ass. The walls were lined with bookshelves that were packed to the verge of explosion. A filing cabinet was next to a wooden desk in the middle of the room, on top of which was a lap top. He briefly wondered what she used it for.  
  
"Books." An unusually peaceful and dreamy expression came over her face. He wasn't really sure why, but he let the subject drop, despite his desire to pry.  
  
"What's your favourite band?"  
  
"I have two. Ghost of the Robot and The Arrogant Worms." Spike frowned. He knew The Arrogant Worms were a great Canadian comedy group, but he'd never heard of the other band.  
  
"Ghost of the Robot?"  
  
"They're really good. I have a tiny crush on their lead singer. In fact, he looks a little like you." He filed away that tidbit of information, glancing at the clock above Andrea's dishwasher.  
  
"I should go." He stood and she followed him to the door. He pulled it open and stepped outside before turning to face her. Spike hesitated for a moment. Then, completely without warning, he pulled Andrea against him. The sudden contact with his hard body forced every bit of air from her lungs. Not giving her time to react, he ducked his head and sipped tantalizingly at her lips. Her fingers tunneled through his surprisingly soft, bleached-blond curls as he coaxed her lips apart to slip his tongue inside the satiny heat of her mouth. She moaned when his thumb brushed the side of her breast. She whispered his name against his lips. Brushing the backs of his fingers along her jaw bone, he pulled back. "Good night, Andrea." Then he turned and strolled to the sidewalk, disappearing into the darkness. 


	5. Surprise, Surprise

***** Chapter 5: Surprise, Surprise *****  
  
"Dawn, will you get the door, please?" Buffy asked, flipping the grilled cheese sandwiches over. Dawn obediently hopped out of her chair and moved to the front door. She reappeared a moment later in the kitchen, carrying a package. Buffy frowned. "What's that?" she wondered aloud.  
  
"Dunno."  
  
"You weren't expecting anything?" Andrea asked, joining them from the living room, Willow close behind.  
  
"No." Buffy moved toward the box, which Dawn had placed on the counter.  
  
"Careful. It could be dangerous," Andrea warned.  
  
"She's right," agreed Willow, her red curls bobbing as she nodded her approval of Andrea's admonishment.  
  
"Of course I am," she said jokingly.  
  
"If slightly paranoid." This came from Dawn.  
  
"Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they aren't after you," Andrea quoted wisely. Buffy smiled. She opened the wrapping on the parcel and took the lid off the box inside. She gasped and stumbled backwards. "What? Buffy, what is it?" Andrea stepped forward and peered into the box. "Oh, wow." Willow and Dawn checked the contents and also found seemingly endless bundles of cash.  
  
"My God, Buffy," Dawn exclaimed. Buffy stepped forward and took two of the packets in her hands.  
  
"There's got to be at least a hundred thousand dollars in there, Buffy," observed Andrea.  
  
"We should call Giles," Willow advised.  
  
"I'm pretty sure there's not a demon in Sunnydale that would want to give me a hundred grand, Will."  
  
"Look for a note," said Dawn, stepping up next to Buffy, and shifting the bundles around. "There's always a note in the movies." At the bottom of the box, she found what they were looking for. Holding the slip if paper up, she read, "Use it well." "Is there a name?" Andrea asked, her hazel eyes searching Dawn and Buffy for their reactions. "It says 'Ads,'" answered Buffy, frowning, clearly puzzled.  
  
"No, it says ADS Like initials. Or Internet slang like LMAO," Dawn objected. When Willow glanced at Dawn funny, she clarified. "Laughing my ass off."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Well, it says you should use the money," Andrea said.  
  
"And who are we to argue with anyone rich enough to give me this much cash?" Andrea's beeper went off at that moment.  
  
"Aw, man. Can I use your phone?" she asked Buffy, who, having realized the grilled cheeses had been about to burst in to flames, was taking them off the stove.  
  
"Yeah, I guess."  
  
"I'll pay for the call. It's long distance." Buffy grunted consentingly and Andrea grabbed the cordless off the counter and moved in to the hallway ti place the call to New York.  
  
"Sheene Publishing," came the stereotypical secretary's voice on the other end of the line.  
  
"Sherry, can I speak to James, please?  
  
"Sure, hun. Hang on a sec." He call was then transferred to the desk of her long time friend and editor, James Cain.  
  
"I paged you yesterday and you never returned my call." Andrea winced involuntarily.  
  
"I know. Sorry. I was busy." A sigh sounded from James. She could visualize him perfectly. His loafer-covered feet had come down off the desk, a few unruly strands of his gelled hair had fallen into his eyes.  
  
"That's all right. What's your new number?" She rattled off her phone number, which he copied down. "So when can I expect my baby to get here?"  
  
"I mailed it Friday. It will be there soon, I swear." She smiled at his enthusiasm.  
  
"Is it as good as Ben says?"  
  
"I guess."  
  
"You always were too modest. You're damn wonderful and you know it." "James, you're exaggerating."  
  
"If I don't get it by Wednesday, I'll tie Ben up and clip his fingernails," he jokingly referred to her older brother. Andrea feigned panic when she replied.  
  
"Oh, please, no. Not Ben. Leave him alone. You'll get your stuff."  
  
"We'll see." The phone went dead in her hands. 


	6. Misunderstanding

Willow was leaning against the wall in the kitchen. Picking up Andrea's side of the telephone call was a complete accident.  
  
"I know. Sorry, I was busy." Who is she talking to? "I mailed it on Friday. I'll be there soon, I swear. James, your exaggerating." Who's James? "No, please. Not Ben. Leave him alone. You'll get your stuff." Andrea sounded panicked.  
  
Willow hurried away from the door frame as she returned. Andrea pulled a ten dollar bill out of her back pocket and handed it to Buffy. "Thanks." Willow frowned. How could Andrea act so normal, cheerful even, when this Ben guy was in danger? "I've gotta get going. Errands to run. Maybe I'll drop by later at the Magic Box." Buffy nodded and Andrea left the house.  
  
* * *  
  
"So this suitcase has one hundred thousand dollars in it," Giles summarized, wiping his glasses. "Where is it now?"  
  
"At home," answered Buffy, tiredly propping her chin on her hand at the Magic Box's table.  
  
"And there was no name?" Xander was clearly confused.  
  
"Just the letters ADS."  
  
"I wonder who would give you all that cash," Anya said breathlessly. "Can I have some?"  
  
"You lot are bloody dense," groaned Spike, running his fingers through his hair. "It was Andrea."  
  
"What makes you say that?" asked Willow, wondering if Spike new anything she didn't.  
  
"The woman is loaded. Maybe it hasn't struck you as a little queer that she's 21, lives in her own house and owns an expensive car, but I think it's worth noting."  
  
"Nobody cares what you think, Spike," Xander grunted.  
  
"He's got a point," Giles said.  
  
"When I was walking her home the other night, she said she'd like to help with Betty's cash flow difficulties," Spike added, deliberately screwing up Buffy's name. Her jaw tensed, but she said nothing.  
  
"Do you think Andrea's into something illegal?" Willow asked hesitantly. Buffy gazed uneasily at her friend.  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"I dunno. It's just that . . . Before, at your house, when she made that call, I overheard her side of the conversation. It didn't give me the greatest impression."  
  
Buffy and Giles both looked very concerned, as if Willow might be harmed for knowing this. Spike, however, looked almost. . .upset to be hearing this. Xander stared at him, clearly confused by Spike's reaction. Spike usually thought situations like this were terribly amusing.  
  
"Why not? What did she say?" Xander asked, still looking at Spike.  
  
"She said something about having sent this guy what he wanted. I think his name was James. Said that he shouldn't worry, that it would be there soon. And then she sounded really upset, like scared. She seemed really concerned that James might hurt someone named Ben."  
  
"So basically, you think she was talking to a loan shark," Anya concluded, seeming excited by the concept.  
  
"Yes. That's what it sounded like to me," Willow admitted uncomfortably. "But after she left, I got the number of the call she made."  
  
"We could call it and find out who she called," Buffy suggested. Giles sighed.  
  
"Use the phone over there." Buffy got the number from Willow, then punched it on the phone by the glass counter. After a few rings, the phone was answered by a woman with a voice that achieved a pitch that would normally have been helium-induced.  
  
"Sheene Publishing."  
  
* * *  
  
Andrea disconnected the call to her older brother, Ben, still smiling. She missed him. Maybe he'd come visit her soon. She set down in the swivel chair of her home office, that should have been a guest bedroom, at her laptop and loaded her latest work. Sighing, she took a Nicorette out of her pocket and popped it into her mouth, holding a pen between the index and middle fingers of her right hand, like a cigarette. Old habits die hard. At least this was healthier than outright smoking while she was working, like she used to.  
  
Once she got the flow started, the ideas kept coming and she pounded furiously on the keyboard, weaving a story so complex, characters so realistic, that if it weren't for the fact that she'd created them last night, she might have believed they were real. An hour, maybe two, into her writing, her telephone rang. She tried to ignore it, but the interruption had disturbed the creative flow and she answered. "This better be good," she snapped into the receiver, assuming it was Ben, whom she had told specifically not to call.  
  
"Forget to take your Midol, pet?" answered Spike, sounding amused by her testiness. She pushed her bangs away from her eyes in frustration. Her tone softened considerably.  
  
"I'm sorry, Spike. I was just in the middle of something when the phone rang."  
  
"Anybody I know?" he joked.  
  
"If it were, I wouldn't tell you," she said, unfazed by the innuendo. She'd heard much worse than Spike's inquiry glowing up with Ben. Spike sighed audibly.  
  
"Damn. Can't blame me for trying. Love a good gossip every once and a while," he feigned disappointment.  
  
"I'm sure," she said sarcastically. "Was there a reason you called?"  
  
"Get right to the point, don't you, love? I'm over at Buffy's and her the witch want to go to the Bronze. Wanted to see if you'd tag along?"  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
"Figured I'd go with. Check out the back playing." He paused. "Does it make a difference?" he whispered suggestively.  
  
"No," Andrea said defensively. She heard a sexy chuckle from the other side of the line. She groaned. "Tell Buffy I'll be there in a few." 


	7. All Shook Up

Disclaimer: Parts of this chapter are based on some parts of an episode of Fresh Prince of Bel Air. A/N: Yes, I know that new slayers usually aren't older than 18, I just ignored the fact. :)  
  
***** Chapter 7: All Shook Up *****  
  
She stepped inside Buffy's house and entered the living room. Spike rose when he saw her, taking in the sight of her quickly, his strikingly blue eyes flickering over. She inhaled sharply when tingles formed everywhere his eyes touched. He smirked, as if reading her mind.  
  
Willow sat on the couch, oblivious to Andrea's presence. "What are you reading?" Andrea asked. The red-headed witch glanced up from the novel she'd been engrossed in.  
  
"Tara and I joined a book club at the university. The reading assigned this time is called 'Hunted.' It's by a woman named Stephanie Goodwin. It's an awesome book. Ever heard of it?" Andrea stifled a laugh.  
  
"No, sorry," she lied. "What's so great about it?"  
  
"This woman grows up in a really dysfunctional household and she's, like, a CIA agent on this huge case. The president's trying to cover up that vampires are real. It's really funny in parts. Lots of action. It's amazing how the author captures the physical characteristics of vampires and their mannerisms, when she probably doesn't even realize the truth of what she's writing."  
  
"Maybe she does," Andrea suggested. Spike glanced at her strangely. "Everybody ready to go?" she asked, hurriedly changing the subject. Buffy came in from the kitchen.  
  
"Yep, all set." Andrea's gaze flickered over the room and she frowned.  
  
"Where's Dawn?"  
  
"At a friend's house."  
  
"Okay. Let's go." She moved out the door, digging her car keys out of her pocket. Willow and Buffy excitedly hopped in the back of the black Firebird convertible. Spike slid in to the front seat, running his hands over the smooth leather.  
  
"Nice wheels. Who'd you have to kill?" He was only half joking when he asked. Backing out of Buffy's driveway and heading for The Bronze, she answered softly.  
  
"I've worked very hard for everything I have, Spike." He was taken aback by her defensive response. "Never said any differently, love." He might have touched her then, might have gently brushed away that blonde hair that had fallen adorably over her forehead, if Buffy and Willow hadn't been carrying on a conversation directly behind them. But they were, so he didn't.  
  
Andrea stayed silent for the remainder of the drive to the club, listening to Willow and Buffy discuss the band playing that night. Surprisingly, it was one she liked.  
  
She pulled into the near-empty parking lot behind the nightclub. Evidently, people enjoyed walking in this town. Not too bright, considering its underground inhabitants.  
  
The interior of The Bronze was packed with kids their age, dancing, having fun. Typical nightclub scene. They found an empty table and decided to wait for Xander and Anya to arrive before getting drinks. It shouldn't be long anyway. It was almost 7:00, the time they'd agreed to meet.  
  
Seven? Had she really been writing for that long? Jesus, talk about focused.  
  
Andrea let her train of thoughts drop when one of her favourite songs came on. It was 'All or Nothing.' Originally by O'Town, but these guys seemed to be doing well with it, considering it was only the intro. She must have voiced her opinion out loud, because Spike rose, leaned down and whispered into her ear, "Wanna dance, love?"  
  
"Sure." This was probably a bad idea. Oh, well. Too late now. He had taken her hand and was leading her out onto the dance floor. He turned to dace her, smirking in an annoyingly satisfied way. He slowly drew her arms up and pulled them around his neck. She tried to stay a respectful distance away from him, but he would have none of it. He pulled her soft body flush up against his hard chest, not leaving a breath of space between them. He nuzzled her silky hair with his nose, inhaling her scent.  
  
Alright. Too could play this game. Andrea laid her head down on his shoulder, accidentally-on-purpose brushing her moist lips against his neck. He inhaled sharply. Hadn't been expecting that. If he'd had a pulse, it would have skipped a beat, then quickened considerably.  
  
They had turned this into a can-you-top-this game in which the object was to drive the other person crazy. Oh, well. He had started it, after all. Control your body's responses. Think of fat men. Old ladies. Anything but the feel of Andrea's curves against your body.  
  
The song ended and she pulled away, but Spike kept his arms around her waist, not allowing her very much room. His gaze flickered over her face, catching the desire that flashed through her eyes. She licked her lips. She did that a lot when she was nervous.  
  
Then the ground began to shake.  
  
They looked around, searching for the cause of the earthquake. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he assumed it was natural. This was California, after all. He saw the fear in Andrea's eyes as he pushed her gently under a table and dove in after her, to guard her from falling debris. She instinctively crawled up next to him and he protectively wrapped his arms around her.  
  
Lights, drinks crashed to the floor. Screams rang out around them. He wasn't sure, but he thought Andrea was shaking. Of course, that could have been a result of the earthquake. Amazing. She could kill demons without blinking, but the ground moves for twenty seconds and she was under a table sitting on his lap. Although, he happened to be enjoying that last part. All it took was an earthquake to bring out the vulnerability in her.  
  
The shaking stopped and the screaming quieted. He brushed her hair tenderly away from her face. "You okay, pet?" he asked softly.  
  
"The ground moved, Spike. It moved. Nobody bombed it, it just moved. No, I am not okay. I am a grown woman, hiding under a chair, hugging a vampire. I am not okay!" His chest was shaking softly. "Are you laughing at me?"  
  
"I'm sorry, love," he laughed. "It's just-" He never got to finish. She drew back and her knuckles connected with his jaw bone. If she hadn't been sitting on him, he would've slid at least a few feet.  
  
"Insensitive prick." She crawled out from under the table and stood, searching the room for her friends.  
  
"Aw, come on, Andrea." Spike had gotten out from under the table and was standing next to her. She ignored him, instead walking quickly toward Buffy, Willow, Xander and Anya, who were under a staircase.  
  
"Are you two okay?" Buffy asked. "We didn't see you when the earthquake started."  
  
"We got under a table," Andrea supplied, still not looking at Spike. "We're fine. How about you guys?"  
  
"We're good."  
  
"Spike, what happened to you?" asked Willow, frowning.  
  
"Yeah, your jaw looks bruised," agreed Buffy. "Did you get hit by something?" He smiled.  
  
"Yes. Andrea's fist."  
  
"What?" They were clearly confused by Spike's response.  
  
"She decked me." Andrea glared at him, attempting to halt further explanation. Buffy looked questioningly at Andrea, who chose not to respond. "She was scared, weren't you, pet?" She still said nothing. Spike looked at the Scoobies. "Now she's not speaking to me. It was just an earthquake, love." It was the way he said it that made her respond.  
  
"I'm from Canada. Earthquake is not in my vocabulary. Wind, snow, beer, hockey. These are things I know. The ground is not supposed to move." He was still smiling as he soothingly caressed her arm. She shrugged off his touch. "Don't touch me."  
  
"I think it's cute, baby."  
  
"Don't patronize me, asshole. And don't call me that." It was clear that Buffy found Andrea's distress almost as funny ass Spike did, but was trying much harder to conceal her smile.  
  
"Come on. We should go to Giles's apartment. See if he's okay." 


	8. Discussions and Demons

A/N: Sorry for the shortness of this chapter and all, but I'll try to get the next one to you soon.  
  
***** Chapter 8: Discussions and Demons *****  
  
"Is everyone all right?" Giles asked as he let them all file into his apartment.  
  
"Yes, we're fine," said Buffy. "Have you talked to Dawn?"  
  
"She's okay. I called her after the earthquake. Sends her love."  
  
"Good. I was worried."  
  
"But everything was natural?" Xander asked. "The world isn't ending?" Giles rubbed his glass lenses with a silk cloth.  
  
"Not this time, I'm afraid." Buffy sighed melodramatically.  
  
"Sunnydale's so boring when there's nothing trying to kill us." Andrea glanced at her watch.  
  
"Hey, Buffy, we still have time to patrol, if you want."  
  
"Yeah, okay."  
  
* * *  
  
"So, uh," Andrea began as they strolled through one of Sunnydale's many cemeteries together. "What's with you and Spike?" Buffy looked at her, confusion fluttering over her face.  
  
"Me and Spike?"  
  
"Yeah. Are you guys, like, involved?"  
  
"God, no. What gave you that idea?"  
  
"I dunno. Sorry. I didn't mean to pry." Jeez. She should have just kept her mouth shut. Now Buffy probably thought she was checking up on Spike. Great. Had to ask, didn't you?  
  
"My turn," said Buffy. "What's with you and Spike?" She smiled as Andrea sputtered an answer.  
  
"What do you mean?" Busted. "Come on. You want him. What was that look you guys shared after you danced tonight? You looked like you were about to jump each other's bones right there on the floor." "What? You're imagining things." She was such a liar.  
  
"Okay," Buffy relented skeptically. She was still smiling. "So. I know it was you that gave me all that money." She hadn't wanted to bring it up, but now was as good a time as any.  
  
Andrea winced. "Busted. How'd you figure it out?"  
  
"Come on. You signed your initials."  
  
"Yeah, I know. It's not like I was trying to hide that it was me. I just didn't come right out and say it. And don't try to give it back. I don't need it." Buffy hesitated, but realized that Andrea wouldn't give up on this matter.  
  
"All right. Thank you."  
  
"No problem."  
  
"There's just one more thing. How did you get the money to my front porch when you were inside with me?" Andrea sighed.  
  
"I do a little bit of magic every now and them. I used my powers to ring the doorbell. I'd set the money out there earlier."  
  
"Oh. Hey, did you hear-" She spun and was knocked to the ground by a huge, iron-hard fist. "Son of a bitch." A huge demon towered over them, standing about eight feet tall. Horns jutted out of the rocky skin on its head and it growled heavily. Andrea kicked it in the chest, but it grabbed her foot and twisted unmercifully. She cried out as Buff y swung a nearby fallen branch into the demon's face. It reflexively released Andrea and clutched at its eyes. It roared angrily. "Run!" Buff y really hadn't needed to ask. As soon as Andrea put pressure on her foot, however, a sharp pain traveled up through her body. Running was out of the question, so she did her best to hobble in the direction of her car. "Andrea! Get down." At Buffy's warning, she dropped to the ground and rolled behind a headstone. Heat, stones and blazing light surrounded her. The demon had thrown a goddamn fireball at her! She was yanked to her feet before the demon could reach her and she and Buffy covered the distance to the car in record time. Andrea shoved the key into the ignition and Buffy stomped on the accelerator. A loud squeal sounded and they left skidmarks on the pavement as they tore away from the cemetery. Another fireball landed where the car had been seconds before.  
  
"So," Andrea said casually. "Where we goin'?" 


	9. Genius? Did I Miss Something?

***** Chapter 9: Genius? Did I miss something? *****  
  
"Was this the demon that attacked you?" Giles flopped a large leather- bound book in front of Andrea, who only glanced at the drawing for a second before nodding.  
  
"That's our guy." Giles sighed and wiped his glasses clean.  
  
"Let me guess," Buffy said. "'It's as I feared. The world is ending. Again.'"  
  
"Well, yes. The appearance of the Mellora demon is the second sign pointing to the apocalypse, the first being the earthquake."  
  
"Ha. I told you it wasn't natural for the ground to move." Buffy rolled her eyes at Andrea.  
  
They were in Giles' apartment. Buffy was standing next to Giles and Andrea was on the couch, her right foot elevated. It appeared she had a sprained ankle. They had cleaned up her bloody nose and the scrape on her cheekbone that she'd received courtesy of flying stones.  
  
"So what comes next?" asked Buffy.  
  
"The final ritual involves the death of a slayer."  
  
"Uh. . .which one?" Andrea suddenly looked very concerned.  
  
"I'm assuming it's you, Andrea."  
  
"Why?" asked Buffy.  
  
"Because the prophecy tells of the death of a slayer who is also a child genius. No offense, of course." Andrea winced at the mention of the word 'genius'.  
  
"Andrea, is there something you're not telling us?" Buffy asked unnecessarily.  
  
"No," she lied softly.  
  
"Andrea."  
  
"All right, all right."  
  
"Why didn't you tell us before?" "Didn't seem important. I mean, really, what difference does it make how old I was when I graduated?"  
  
"How old were you?"  
  
"Um. . .Ten."  
  
* * *  
  
"So. Andrea's a genius?" Xander asked.  
  
"Yes," Buffy said patiently.  
  
It was the night after she and Andrea had faced the Mellora. They were seated around a table at the Magic Box, researching the ritual. All except Andrea and Giles, that is.  
  
"S-so Andrea is the n-n-new slayer," Tara stated, still trying to grasp all she had missed on the trip.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Where is she?" Willow asked, glancing around the room for any trace of blonde hair and mischievous hazel eyes.  
  
"I talked to her earlier and she should be here soon."  
  
"Genius is an understatement," Dawn said, leaning over Willow's shoulder to peer at the laptop Willow had been searching on.  
  
"What do you mean, niblet?" Spike asked from his usual position on the counter.  
  
"She graduated from high school at ten. Had a masters degree in creative writing at fourteen from the University of British Columbia. It says here she's been published many times, but it doesn't list the names of any books."  
  
"Sheene Publishing," Buffy whispered.  
  
"What's that, love?"  
  
"The company she phoned. Sheene Publishing. It was probably her publisher she was talking to."  
  
"Well that explains a lot," Dawn said. "M-maybe s-she publishes under a d-different name," Tara suggested.  
  
"Does it really matter?" Spike asked.  
  
"Yes," everyone at the table chorused. Spike shrugged.  
  
"Fine."  
  
"That's where she got all her money from," Anya said jealously from Xander's lap.  
  
"Royalties," Willow agreed. "It's probable. I'll hack in to Sheene Publishing's records. See if I can find a pen name."  
  
"Why are we doing this?" Spike rubbed his temple. "Who cares that she's got a bleeding degree. I think you lot are intimidated."  
  
"Oh, big word, there, Spike. You get that from word-of-the-day toilet paper?" Xander glared at him.  
  
"Probably why she didn't tell you in the first place," he continued, ignoring Xander's insult. "Afraid you all would react the way you're reacting right now." Buffy sighed.  
  
"He's right. Does it matter that she'd graduated university before we'd graduated high school? Andrea really doesn't care that Anya's an ex-demon. Or that Spike's a vampire. Or that Willow's a lesbian." Buffy frowned at the last example, not really taking to saying it out loud.  
  
"Found her pen name," Willow said, effectively halting Buffy's speech. "Stephanie Goodwin." 


	10. Research Mode

***** Chapter 10: Research Mode *****  
  
"Isn't that who write o-our book?" Tara looked very confused.  
  
"Yeah. I can't believe it. I never would have guessed." Xander arched an eyebrow and absently caressed Anya's knee.  
  
"Is she any good?" Spike bit back a comment, instead suggestively clearing his throat. Buffy looked briefly at him, but said nothing.  
  
"Oh, yes. She's very good." Tell me about it, Red. The bell on the door sounded and his gaze flew to Andrea as she stepped into the shop, a grim smile set on her face.  
  
"Hey, there, Webster," Xander said cheerfully. She half-smiled as she pulled out a chair at the table and seated herself.  
  
"That's been done, Xander," she said.  
  
"You lied to us," Dawn stated, her expression somewhere between disappointment and approval.  
  
"No, I didn't. I just conveniently forgot to tell you stuff. That was of slight importance."  
  
"You lied by omission, pet." It was the first time Spike had spoken to her since he'd gone back to his crypt after they'd gone to Giles'. Since the Mellora. She closed her eyes, head down.  
  
"I know," she admitted. "I'm sorry. I just didn't realize. . .How the hell was I supposed to know that I'm the key to the next apocalypse?" She pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. Dammit, even when he was accusing her of lying, she wanted him. What was wrong with her? Buffy laid a hand on her shoulder.  
  
"Hey, relax. It doesn't matter. It's done. Right now, we need to concentrate on how to stop the end of the world."  
  
"Buffy's right," agreed Willow. "But later, will you sign my copy of 'Serenity Gone'?" The red-head looked hopefully at the new slayer, who smiled, despite the seriousness of the situation.  
  
"Sure, Will."  
  
Xander was staring at Spike, ignoring the conversation. What was with him? One minute he's defending Andrea, the next he's scolding her. He knew it was stupid, but Spike couldn't help but feel hurt that Andrea hadn't trusted him enough to tell him her secret. No bloody wonder Monkey Boy looks so sodding confused. But really, he'd known her for less that a week. They barely even knew each other. But there was so much he wanted to know. Like where she was ticklish. Like what colour panties she wore. He quickly shoved away that fantasy before it got started. That was all he needed, a hard-on when he was within spitting distance of Niblet, Monkey Boy, the slayers and two witches.  
  
* * *  
  
"Look, we've been here since four. It's nine. I think we should eat something," Dawn complained.  
  
They'd been researching this ritual four hours and hadn't found much. Only that it involves the death of a slayer child prodigy. And that wasn't exactly news.  
  
Giles had joined them around five. Apparently, he also had a social life. Soon after Willow's autograph request, everyone had realized that Andrea still had not been introduced to Tara and made the inductions. Xander's stomach growled.  
  
"I think Dawny's right on this one. At this rate, we'll all die of starvation before the ritual anyway."  
  
"I am feeling a bit peckish myself," Spike agreed, patting his ripped stomach.  
  
"All right, if we don't find anything in ten minutes, someone can go get something to eat," Giles said tiredly. He turned the page in the thick volume that lay on the table in front of him.  
  
"Who's supposed to be doing this ritual anyway?" Andrea asked, running her fingers through her hair in frustration.  
  
"Well, I'm not entirely sure. It could be anyone."  
  
"That narrows it down," she said sarcastically. There was silence until -  
  
"Hey, I found something," Buffy said. Andrea looked at her expectantly. "This ritual can only be performed once every 28 500 years. There's only five minutes in which it can be done."  
  
"So all we have to so is postpone the ritual until the opening is gone," Xander summarized.  
  
"Easier said than done, I'm sure."  
  
"Now, now, Andrea, let's not get pessimistic," Buffy advised.  
  
"No, Buffy," Giles interrupted. "She's right." He suddenly looked even more grim than he had before, as he gazed down at the book Buffy had been reading. "This ritual will rip a hole in the Milky Way." Andrea slowly turned her gaze to the watcher.  
  
"Jesus." Dawn gasped and Willow paled. Buffy took the book, glanced down and winced.  
  
"Ouch."  
  
"What?" She probably didn't want to know.  
  
"A picture showing part of the ritual," Giles said vaguely, rubbing his eyes. Andrea frowned, reaching for the book, but Spike had hopped off the counter and snatched the book out of Buffy's hands. He only looked at the book for a second before he snapped it shut.  
  
"Bloody hell. I need a smoke." He swept out of the shop and Andrea took the book and flipped through the pages until she located the drawing. It depicted a girl tied to a chair in a dress that looked ritualistic. She was bleeding heavily from various parts of her body. And what looked like entrails were dangling from her stomach. Closing the book, she forced a smile as everyone looked expectantly at her.  
  
"So, who's up for dinner?" she said darkly. "I'll go get some fast food." She stood and exited the store. 


	11. Giving in to Temptation

***** Chapter 11: Giving in to Temptation *****  
  
The cool night air struck her face in a refreshing gust as she stepped outside. Closing her eyes and exhaling deeply, she leaned back against the brick wall, as she waited for the feeling of nausea to pass.  
  
"Okay, pet?" Spike was beside her, gazing through his piercing blue eyes, concern etched in his features. He took a drag of his cigarette, then a swig from his flask.  
  
"No, Spike. I'm not okay." She paused. Andrea looked at him. She knew she shouldn't, but surely just one . . . "Can I bum a smoke?" He raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Sure, love." He pulled a cigarette out of his pack and handed it to her. She took a long drag as he lit it, then exhaled. She moaned. "Didn't know you smoked."  
  
"I don't. I quit when I was seventeen. Mmm. . . Sweet nicotine."  
  
"It's a bad habit. You shouldn't start again."  
  
"What's in your flask?"  
  
"Bourbon."  
  
"Gimme that." She grabbed it roughly from his loose grasp and took three long swallows, when handed it back to him. He looked vaguely impressed.  
  
"Feel better now?" She took another drag, then tossed the cigarette to the pavement and ground it out with the toe of her boot.  
  
"Much. Thanks."  
  
"No problem, Andrea." She pushed herself off the wall and started toward her car. "Where you going?"  
  
"Get some food. Don't wanna get killed on an empty stomach."  
  
* * *  
  
Buffy sighed as Andrea left the shop. "So when is this ritual?" she asked, turning to Giles. He sat back in his chair, removing his glasses tiredly.  
  
"The ritual has to take place during the quarter moon. That's on Thursday night."  
  
"So we have three days. What do we do 'til then?" asked Willow.  
  
"Well, just because the ritual isn't until Thursday doesn't mean that whoever's doing the ritual won't try to get at Andrea before then. They need her for the ritual, right? So why not just kidnap her and keep her drugged up 'til then?" Buffy pointed out.  
  
"You are, of course, correct. Someone should stay with her until Thursday's passed."  
  
"I can do it tomorrow, but I have to go to LA on Tuesday night."  
  
"Why?" Xander frowned.  
  
"Angel. What else?" said Dawn sarcastically.  
  
"I really don't like him," Xander said unnecessarily, more to himself and Anya than anyone else. Buffy rolled her eyes and groaned exasperatedly.  
  
"She can't stay by herself," Buffy continued. "If that Mellora demon comes back . . . We were both in pretty rough shape after we fought it."  
  
"Correct again. But the only other person who'd have any kind of chance against the Mellora would be . . ." He trailed off.  
  
"Spike," Buffy finished. Their gazes collectively flew to the door, which Spike held chivalrously open as Andrea stepped inside the shop, holding a bulky paper bag in each hand, a tray of drinks balanced on her head.  
  
"Hey," she greeted cheerfully. "Got the food."  
A/N: Hahahahahaha! You thought from the title that they were gunna have crazy naked bunny sex, didn't ya?!?! DIDN'T YA!!! Hahahaha! Fooled ya! But seriously, don't worry. I won't make you, or Spike & Andrea wait too much longer. LOL 


	12. Photo Albums

***** Chapter 12: Photo Albums *****  
  
"So, do we have a plan for today?" Buffy asked as she hung her jacket up on the coat rack near the door.  
  
"I've got some unpacking to do still, but after that we could go Bronzing if you want." To tell the truth, Andrea kind of wanted to stay in.  
  
"I don't really feel like going out," Buffy said. Andrea felt a rush of relief.  
  
"Yeah, me either. Wanna have a movie-fest?" Buffy's face lit up.  
  
"Can there be brownies?"  
  
"And ice cream."  
  
"Low cal?" Buffy frowned.  
  
"Of course. Who do you think I am? We're not going slaying, so we gotta watch the fat grams." Andrea led Buffy into the living room and motioned for her to sit.  
  
"I knew there was a reason I liked you. Can I help you unpack?" Buffy fell back onto the large and very comfy sofa.  
  
"Uh, sure. Just let me grab the boxes and I'll bring them in here." Andrea left the room and reappeared a few minutes later carrying two cardboard boxes stacked on top of one another. "Okay," she started, setting the boxes on the coffee table, "just make piles of stuff. Stuff for the living room, stuff for my bedroom, et cetera."  
  
"Right. I think I can handle that." Buffy reached into one of the boxes and pulled out a matching pair of photo albums. Andrea, who was making a pile of books on the floor next to her, didn't notice when Buffy began to flip slowly through the pictures. Images of Andrea as a child and teenager filled the pages. Andrea, two guys, and another girl were in most of the pictures, taken in a nasty old building that looked about to fall down. Andrea's hair was messy and her face was spotted with random smudges of dirt. She was still pretty, just kinda dirty. Her clothes were torn and muddy. But the other people were just as bad. Except for one of the guys. He looked like a normal, clean, healthy kid. He had dark hair and seemed kind of out of place hanging out with the other three kids. He was handsome in a sophisticated, college-snot way. The other boy was good- looking with blond hair the same shade as Andrea's and his clothes were in a similar state of disarray. He was probably her brother. His eyes were more brown than Andrea's hazel ones and his had less of a devilish gleam than his sister's. The girl that was with them had messy auburn hair that was cut short, and the only reason she looked any better off than Andrea and her brother was that she had a well-worn leather trenchcoat dangling off her shoulders. "Who are they?" Buffy asked softly. Andrea glanced over at the photo album.  
  
"They blond is my brother, Ben, the red-head is my cousin, April, and the brunette is James, my editor."  
  
"Oh, I get it. You guys have been friends for a while. How old were you in this picture?"  
  
"Fourteen. Ben was sixteen, so was James, and April was fourteen, too." Yeah, I know we look pitiful. But just because you're poor doesn't mean you aren't clever enough to steal a disposable every couple of months.  
  
"Did you know that you were a potential then?"  
  
"Nope. They dumped it on me about a year after that. I was fifteen." By then, Andrea had finished sorting her box and was halfway through Buffy's. Realizing she wasn't exactly helping, Buffy helped Andrea finish off the box and move the piles into the proper rooms. Settling back down in the living room, Andrea said, "I rented some movies last night for us to watch."  
  
"What movies?"  
  
"I got 'House on Haunted Hill,' 'Winding Roads,' 'City of Angels,' and both 'American Pie' movies. Oh, and 'Cruel Intentions'."  
  
"Awesome. What do you wanna watch first? I vote for 'House on Haunted Hill.'"  
  
"Yeah, me too." Putting the movie into the VCR, she said, "Hey, has it ever struck you as incredibly creepy how much the camera man in the elevator scene looks like Spike?" The movie began playing.  
  
"Actually, now that you mention it, it is quite freaky." Buffy hesitated. "Speaking of Spike, how's that developing?"  
  
"How's what developing?"  
  
"Oh, come on, Andrea. Don't give me that. Have you guys done it yet?"  
  
"What? Spike and I have not done it! We're not going to do it. He's a vampire. Watch the movie." Andrea uncomfortably crossed her arms over her chest.  
  
"That doesn't always matter," Buffy continued, ignoring Andrea's command. "I should know. I was with Angel."  
  
"It's not the same. Angel had a soul."  
  
"Spike can be a good man if you give him a chance."  
  
"He's not a man. He's a vampire. Huge difference, there, Buffy."  
  
"You know what I mean. He's changed since he got the chip in. He's a good guy. Give him a chance." She grinned slowly. "I bet he's really good in bed."  
  
"Buffy! Holy crap. Assume much. I mean, so what if he has killer cheekbones and rock hard abs and an incredibly sexy accent and God, help me, I'm rambling." She took a deep breath. "What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you? You're supposed to stop me when I do that." Buffy laughed.  
  
"I'm sorry, it's just that it's so very funny. Okay, look. I know you like Spike. I think you should go for it."  
  
"If you like him so much, why don't you go out with him?"  
  
"I had enough of Spike when Willow cast that do-thy-will spell." Andrea frowned. "Never mind. Long story. And besides, Xander would have a total cow. He probably will when he finds out about you two anyway, but-"  
  
"There is no 'us two.' Nothing. No need for cows."  
  
"Whatever. But I can tell you and Spike have something special. There's definitely chemistry. And I'm not the only one who's noticed. Dawn's got Willow picking out wedding invitations."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I'm not even kidding. And to tell you the truth, I'm kinda jealous."  
  
"Of what? Why?"  
  
"I haven't had a guy look at me like Spike looks at you in so long. It would be nice to have that again."  
  
"Yeah?" Andrea said sarcastically. "How does he look at me?"  
  
"Like you're the only person in the room, and it's a very small, hot room." Andrea rolled her eyes dismissively. "So how far have we gotten? Are we at first base, second base or 'eee gads'?"  
  
"None of your business, Buffy I-don't-know-your-middle-name Summers."  
  
"Ah ha. Rounding second."  
  
"Not funny. Okay. So, when are you leaving?"  
  
"Before I answer, I want you to know that I am completely aware that you're changing the subject. Around two. I thought I'd get a head start, then rent a motel room when I get to LA, catch up on some beauty sleep and see Angel in the morning." 


	13. Violation

***** Chapter 13: Violation *****  
  
"James, what are you doing?" Her voice was shaky as she backed away from him, her beautiful hazel eyes filled with fear. Her retreat was abruptly halted as she felt the cold brick wall against her back. He smiled greasily and caressed her breast, his other hand squeezed her ass.  
  
"Come on, baby. Don't tell me you've never thought about it?" He crushed his lips down onto hers and Andrea roughly pushed him away.  
  
"Stop, James, please." Her soft plea went unheaded as his hand slid up the inside of her thigh. "Stop it," she said more firmly.  
  
"Shh." She tried to unsnap her jeans and she bit the hand that had been caressing her tear-stained cheek. James lost it. He roared angrily and backhanded her, sending her crashing to the floor. "Goddamn cocktease. Think you can just lead me on like that?" He kicked at her but missed as she rolled to her feet.  
  
"James, you've had too much to drink." He snickered and stumbled toward her.  
  
"And you've had just enough." She frowned.  
  
"What are you talking about?" He just smiled. Suddenly Andrea began to feel very tired. Her limbs felt like lead, as her eyes drooped shut. She sank to the ground, unconscious. The bastard had drugged her drink.  
  
Unable to defend herself, she could do nothing to stop the repeated violations . . .  
  
* * *  
  
"No, stop!" Andrea was startled awake by her own terrified scream, drenched in a cold sweat and salty tears.  
  
It was just a nightmare. But it'd seemed so real.  
  
Sobs racked her small shoulders as she cried uncontrollably in her bed. She glanced at the clock on her nightstand between spurts of tears. It was 2:40 in the morning. Still crying, she stumbled out of her bedroom and into the bathroom, sinking onto the cold tile floor next to the toilet.  
  
Remembering the nightmare, she threw up into the toilet. She flushed it and the crying ensued.  
  
She lost track of the time. Between puking and bawling, one didn't exactly have the time to glance at a clock. Sometime around four, the door to the bathroom opened. Flushing the toilet again, she looked up at Spike, as tears streamed down her damp cheeks. She sniffled pathetically as he gazed down at her, concern wrinkling his brow.  
  
"Come on, love. You've been in here long enough. And with you shanking the way you are, I'm right surprised you haven't broken your bloody tailbone yet on that hard floor." He lifted her easily off the floor and took her into the bedroom. He set her on the bed and strode to the door.  
  
"Please don't leave me," Andrea whispered. He returned to the bedside, kneeling down next to it. He gently smoothed the hair away from her face.  
  
"It's okay. I'll be right back." She nodded slowly and he exited the room. Spike returned a moment later carrying a steaming mug. She was sitting on the bed, back against the pillow, knees held defensively against her chest. He handed her the mug as he sat down at her feet. She smiled slightly.  
  
"Hot chocolate?" He shrugged and smiled boyishly.  
  
"Always worked for me." She remained silent, instead sipping the warm drink. "Feeling better now?" She nodded. "Wanna talk about it?"  
  
"Not really."  
  
"They say it helps to talk about nightmares."  
  
"Maybe later." She paused. "How long have you been here?"  
  
"Since around one. Save me the trouble of getting dusted on the way over."  
  
"I didn't even think about it when . . ." She trailed off.  
  
"I know. I heard you get out of bed and decided to give you some time. Figured an hour was long enough.  
  
"Thanks for pulling me out of there. I was getting sick of getting sick." Spike was being really sweet about this. She was glad he was there. If anyone was going to comfort her after that, she'd want it to be him. Maybe she should tell him . . .  
  
Spike had been worried sick when Andrea had stumbled out of her bedroom in tears and had proceeded to throw up into her toilet. He'd wanted to rush to her aid, but thought she'd probably resent the intrusion so closely following what had most likely been an extremely horrific nightmare. He hoped it wasn't anything prophetic. If it had her so terrified that she'd resort to hiding on her bathroom floor, then he'd prefer that it didn't happen. Though he wished she'd tell him what it had been about. Then, maybe, he could help. But he wouldn't force her.  
  
Andrea set her now half-empty mug on the nightstand next to her bed and buried her face in her arms, wiping away the last of her tears. She sniffled softly. She looked up when she felt Spike's hand on her arm as he gently tugged her into his arms. His hand rotated comfortingly on her back as she laid her hand on his shoulder, allowing herself to become immersed in his scent. She looked up into his deep blue eyes just in time to catch the flash of desire that zoomed through his gaze. Her eyes fluttered closed as he involuntarily brushed his lips with her own. He moaned and deepened the kiss. Andrea slipped her hands under his stretchy black tee, feeling the smooth muscles of his back ripple under her fingertips as he pushed her back onto the bed. She instinctively rolled her hips, causing him to swear softly. She pulled Spike's shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor. Tearing her lips from his, she turned her attention to lightly dragging her teeth over his shoulder. His hand slipped under the hem of the white tank she'd worn to bed. He walked his fingers up her ribs and she inhaled sharply when his calloused palm covered her breast. He lazily kissed her neck.  
  
"Wait," he said breathlessly. "We have to stop." He gazed down at her and she brushed a stray blind curl off his forehead.  
  
"How come?"  
  
"Because, subconsciously, you're only doing this to confirm that you're not still dreaming." She opened her mouth to object, but he continued. "It's completely natural, after a nightmare, to need to confirm reality. But when we make love, it'll be because we both want to-"  
  
"- but I do want to-"  
  
"- and not," he continued firmly, "because you got scared out of your wits." Andrea frowned. She didn't know whether to be irritated or touched.  
  
"I guess that makes sense. So what now?" He rolled onto his back, leaving her resting between his legs. She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her chin on his bare chest.  
  
"Let's talk, shall we?"  
  
"About what?" She gazed curiously up into Spike's intense blue eyes. He paused, thinking.  
  
"Tell me about you."  
  
"What about me?"  
  
"Where did you grow up? Do you have a large family? Friends? When did you find out you were a potential?"  
  
"A small town in Ontario, yes and no, of course, and when I was fifteen."  
  
"Yes and no?"  
  
"I had a large family, but my brother and I grew up on the streets. When I was fourteen my mother got tossed in jail for trafficking heroine."  
  
"You lived on the streets?"  
  
"Yeah. Ben and I stayed in an old abandoned shack, stole what food and money we could. Sometimes, when things got rough-"  
  
"-when things got rough?" he said sarcastically.  
  
"Rougher than they already were, we had to resort to less. . .pleasant. . .methods of getting cash." His eyes narrowed.  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Well, I was always kind of well developed for my age. When we were short on cash, I'd flash guys for cash."  
  
"Your brother got you to star in a sodding peepshow when you were fourteen?"  
  
"It was my decision. It was either that, or starve. Besides, it wasn't that bad. It's how we met James. After that, he helped us. Gave us money when we needed it."  
  
"Wait a second. If you went to university, how could you live on the streets?"  
  
"I'd graduated by the time mom got tossed in the slammer. Imagine my shock. Just because you're well educated doesn't mean you can't be a dirty little pickpocket." She hesitated. "Can we talk about something else now?"  
  
"Sure." He was damn lucky she'd told him as she had.  
  
"How old were you when you got turned?"  
  
"Twenty-eight."  
A/N: Yeah, I know this is kind of a weird spot to end my chapter, but look for an update soon!! I'm sorry you couldn't come over Zira, and I promise to play Don't Be a Dork with you and I promise there will be boffing *scoff* 


	14. Crazy Logic

***** Chapter 14: Crazy Logic *****  
  
"Twenty-eight." Andrea considered that for a moment.  
  
"What was your full name?"  
  
"William Joseph Sinclair."  
  
"When was your birthday?"  
  
"August 20th."  
  
"So if you weren't a vampire you'd be turning twenty-nine in a few weeks."  
  
"That's right, love." She opened her mouth to ask another question, but he cut her off. "Uh un. My turn now. What kind of little quirks do you have?" Her brow wrinkled.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"You know...Little quirks. For example, I know that you wrinkle your nose when your confused. And you bite your nails when your nervous. And when no one's around you talk to your cat."  
  
"How do you know all that?" she asked suspiciously. He grinned devilishly.  
  
"I have my ways. What other quirks do you have?"  
  
"Well, I use crazy logic."  
  
"Crazy logic?" She shifted to a more comfortable position on his chest, accidentally prodding his groin with her knee. "Careful, pet, or I'm likely to forget all my good intentions."  
  
"Wouldn't want that now, would we?" she asked playfully, shooting his a falsely innocent smile. He ignored her.  
  
"Crazy logic. Explain."  
  
"Well, sometimes when I get in an argument, or upset about something, I'll make up something to help me out with it. Like when I get in a fight with someone and it looks like I'm going to lose...verbal fight of course because I'd never lose a physical fight...I use my crazy logic to confuse them. I mess with their minds and they get so confused that they think I'm right and I win." He smiled.  
  
"Maybe I'll get to experience some of this 'crazy logic' first hand sometime. Give me an example of a time you used your crazy logic."  
  
"Um..One time in one of my classes, my teacher said something about 'You can't rape the willing,' so I said, 'Well, technically you can rape the willing if one of the people involved in the sexual activity is a minor.' Because, then it's statutory rape. It's one of my less confusing arguments. But you get the point."  
  
"I see. You can be a very confusing woman, can't you?"  
  
"When I want to be."  
  
* * *  
  
Andrea sighed contentedly and let her eyes flutter open. Spike brushed a stray hair out of her hazel eyes. He smiled intimately down at her. His arm was wrapped around her waist, hers sprawled over his stomach, their legs entangled beneath the bed sheets. "Morning, kitten."  
  
"Morning."  
  
"Sleep okay?"  
  
"Yes. Thanks to you." He dipped his head and kissed her quickly on the nose.  
  
"You look adorable when you're sleeping."  
  
"You look adorable when you're telling me I look adorable." He rolled his eyes.  
  
"You always have to have a come back for everything, don't you? You're incorrigible."  
  
"That's what makes me so much fun." She lazily drew figure-eights on his chest with the tip of her finger, then, realizing what she was doing stopped. He took her hand, raised it to his mouth and caught the tip of her index finger in his mouth. She inhaled sharply in surprise. "Isn't it uncomfortable to sleep in jeans?"  
  
"I normally sleep on a sarcophagus. Believe me, I'm comfortable. Want some breakfast?" She pulled her hand away and laid it on his ribs, avoiding his piercing gaze.  
  
"Spike...Thank you. For last night. For everything. You didn't have to do what you did."  
  
"Yes, I did, pet. I couldn't watch you go through that and do nothing." He caught his finger under her chin and gently forced her to look at him. She swallowed nervously.  
  
"I'd like to tell you about my dream now," Andrea said slowly. He smiled supportively.  
  
"You can tell me anything." She took a deep breath.  
  
"When I was almost sixteen, James and I were at a club. He was about eighteen, but his dad was a heavy influence in the town, so James could pretty much do whatever he wanted and get away with it. He was drinking. He got kinda sloshed and...well, got kind of...unpleasant." Spike's eyes flashed with suppressed anger.  
  
"How unpleasant?" he growled.  
  
"He..tried to, uh...rape me." His jaw tensed and his left hand curled into a fist. "I got away. You know, with slayer powers and everything. But, in the dream. . ."  
  
"You weren't so lucky," he finished. "And you work with this git now?"  
  
"He was drunk. It wasn't his fault. He was really sorry afterwards and he's never tried anything like that any other time. He didn't know what he was doing." Yeah, right. This sodding James knew what he was doing and he'd probably try it again.  
  
"How often do you see this guy now?"  
  
"Not often. His office is in New York and, well, I'm not." She pulled away from him, attempting to slide off the bed.  
  
"Not so fast. You sure you're okay?"  
  
"I'm fine. I feel better now, really. I've had the nightmare before, but since I moved here they've been getting less frequent." Since you met Spike, you mean. "I don't know why I chose last night, of all nights, to have one." She walked to the door. "I'm gunna go get some breakfast. You coming?"  
  
A/N: Hey, guys. I'm sorry about the whole James thing, but I needed a conflict here, so, yeah, tough. 


	15. Passions and Pen Names

***** Chapter 15: Passions and Pen Names *****  
  
If one thing was to be learned from this whole experience, it was that you didn't have to eat a lot to be an amazing cook.  
  
"Spike, this is delicious. When did you learn to cook?" Andrea asked curiously, chewing thoughtfully on a spoonful of steamed rice. He shrugged modestly.  
  
"Oh, I just picked it up here and there." He slowly took a bite of the roasted chicken he'd cooked them for lunch.  
  
"You know, you don't have to eat that." She looked pointedly down at his plate of food.  
  
"I don't?" He frowned. "Why do you say that, love?"  
  
"I stocked up on blood before you got here. I'm not dense. I'm not just going to let you starve for two days, you know." He smiled, setting his fork down on his plate.  
  
"I should have known you'd have the foresight."  
  
"It's in the fridge."  
  
"I didn't see it when I was cooking."  
  
"I hid it behind the grapes. Didn't want anyone dropping by and getting wigged. Although, now that I think about it, who would drop by? You, Buffy and everyone else are the only people in this town I know." Jill purred softly from her cushy cat bed on the floor next to the table as she disinterestedly watched Spike move to the refrigerator. "I think my cat loves you."  
  
"Understandable. I'm quite the hottie," he joked. She smiled and sipped the Pepsi sitting in front of her plate. He returned to his seat, a mug of blood in hand and peered at her over the rim as he took a long swallow of the thick liquid. Buffy was right. He did have a way of making the room seem much smaller and hotter when he looked at her like that. She rubbed her neck uncomfortably, trying to ignore the shiver of desire that flowed up her spine. "So what are you going to do today?" he asked, obviously amused by her attempt to dismiss the electricity that flowed between them at every touch, every glance.  
  
"I wanted to get a little bit of writing done today, and then we could go to The Bronze." Yeah, whatever. You just don't want to be too close to him for a lengthy period of time. Might lead to smoochies and other, more dangerous, consequences.  
  
"Alright, pet."  
  
"What are you going to do while I'm writing?"  
  
"I'll find something to amuse myself with. 'Passions' is on at three." She rolled her eyes.  
  
"That's lame, Spike." He shot her an unimpressed look.  
  
"Go ahead and mock me, feeble woman." She grinned slowly as she stood and carried her dish to the sink and began to wash it off.  
  
"I just did." She screamed when he grabbed her roughly by the waist and tugged her between his legs. Her hands flew to his silky blond curls and he kissed her passionately. She moaned. He pushed her back and held her at arm's length as she struggled to get control of her ragged breathing. The woman would be the death of him. He smirked sexily at her as the red tinge of arousal slowly faded from her cheeks.  
  
"You'd better get going if you intend to get any work done. I might change my mind, say bugger the writing, pull you onto the floor and have my way with you. Remember, I don't have any trouble laying on hard surfaces." She gazed at him for a moment, before completely removing herself from his grasp and making a hasty exit.  
  
* * *  
  
Andrea breathed a sigh of relief as she closed the door to her office behind her and sat down at her desk. Spike was so. . .aggravating. Intoxicating. Damn it, why did she have to feel this way? What did she do? Why couldn't she fall in love with a guy with a normal job and a normal life? Nope, it had to be a vampire. Wait a second. Rewind. Love? Nah, that wasn't right. She couldn't be in love with Spike.  
  
She fired up her laptop and began to pound out her frustrations on the tiny keyboard, spilling chapter after chapter of unsated lust into the diminutive machine.  
  
* * *  
  
Spike was startled away from the wonderfully written novel he'd been absorbed in my the shrill ringing of a telephone. He frowned, more than a little pissed off at being torn away from the intriguing plot line. He snatched the phone off the hook.  
  
"Hello?" he growled into the receiver.  
  
"Hi. Whose this?" asked a feminine voice on the other end of the line.  
  
"Spike. Who're you?"  
  
"April. Is Andie there?" April sounded amused.  
  
"Who, Andrea? Yeah, she's here. It's her bloody house."  
  
"You don't have to get snippy, Wonder Boy. Put her on the phone." He laid the phone down on the end table next to the couch he'd been reclined on and jogged upstairs before knocking politely on the door to Andrea's study.  
  
"Come in," came a tired voice form behind the door. He opened the door and gazed at Andrea. She was rubbing her temples in frustration. She glanced up at him. "What do you need?"  
  
"April's on the phone, love."  
  
"Oh. Thank you."  
  
"No problem." He heard her pick up the extension in her office as he closed the door.  
  
"April?"  
  
"Hey, Andie. How's things in Sunny-D?" Andrea smiled at her friend's reference to the small town.  
  
"Alright. How's Canada?"  
  
"Pretty good. Ben keeps complaining about the heat, though. He's an annoying little jerk when he wants to be." Andrea heard a vague 'Shut up' screamed in the background. "So, what's with Wonder Boy?"  
  
"Who? Oh, Spike. Don't go there, please."  
  
"Oooh. Andie's got an British love-muffin."  
  
"Hardly. He's a vampire, April."  
  
"Wow. I always said you weren't like other girls, my friend. That almost qualifies as kinky."  
  
"April, my God! Ben's corrupted you. So when are you gunna come visit me?"  
  
"Actually, that's why I called. Ben says he's able to get off work in a few weeks."  
  
"Awesome. Lemme talk to him."  
  
* * *  
  
Andrea rushed down the stairs and into the living room to find Spike laying on her couch reading. He turned at the noise.  
  
" 'Ello, pet. How goes the writing?"  
  
"Okay. I'm all typed out. Did you watch 'Passions'?" He moved his feet as she sat down on the other end of the sofa.  
  
"Yeah. Timmy's got himself into a bind, let me tell you-"  
  
"Save it. Timmy freaks me out. He's so little and weird." She shuddered melodramatically. "So what did you do after 'Passions'?" He held up the book.  
  
"Oh. You found those, did you?"  
  
"You're good. Why did you use a pen name?"  
  
"Didn't want people digging into my past when they read my books."  
  
"Makes sense, I guess." He smirked at her. "You're very. . .descriptive."  
  
"Huh?" She wrinkled her nose. Spike began to read aloud from the book.  
  
" 'Matt dragged his lips down her silky skin. 'You taste like-'" She roughly snatched the book out of his hands.  
  
"I know what she tastes like; I wrote the damn thing."  
  
"Well, my point is, pet -"  
  
"- Oh, you have one? -"  
  
"- that you're very . . .talented." His blue eyes flashed dangerously and his crooked grin corroborated the double entendre. She leaned close to him, her breath tickling his ear. He wants to play double meaning? Alrighty.  
  
"You have no idea. . ." 


	16. Showers and Singing

***** Chapter 16: Showers and Singing *****  
  
"You have no idea. . ." Andrea grinned devilishly as she heard Spike inhale sharply and pulled away from him, standing up next to the couch. "I'm gunna shower before we head over to The Bronze. You wanna wash up when I'm done?" He stood, trying his hardest to quickly regain his composure. The damn woman was unpredictable.  
  
"Sure, pet." He arched an eyebrow and gave her a half-smile. "Why don't we save water and I'll join you?" She laid a hand on his cheek and gave him an amused smile.  
  
"Keep dreaming, Spike." He watched as she strode out of the room, swaying her hips sexily. He bit back a hungry groan.  
  
Reaching the bathroom, Andrea released a deep breath as she closed the door. She undressed and turned on the tap. She stepped under the cool spray, hoping that a cold shower would prevent her from getting too aroused at the nightclub. Being around Spike evidently had the affect of keeping her more than a little hot under the collar. All the time. She let the beads of water slid down her body, then shampooed her hair. She rinsed and ran a bar of soap over her body, trying to ignore the realization that in a short while Spike would be doing the same thing. Leaving a small trail of soapy bubbles over his taught skin. She shut the tap off and grabbed a towel off the rack as she stepped out of the shower, drying herself off. She wrapped the towel around herself and dragged a brush through her dripping blonde strands. Then she hurried into her bedroom to search for something appropriate to wear.  
  
She spent a good ten minutes rummaging through the contents of her closet before she found something that worked. Guaranteed to make Spike squirm. . . Wait a second. Why do I care what Spike thinks of my outfit? She shook her head, shoving the irrelevant thoughts away as she slipped into red leather pants, black strappy heels and a black tube top. Her hair had begun to air dry, so she decided to leave it free to tumble down her back.  
  
Andrea then cleaned her dirty clothes out of the bathroom and walked carefully down the stairs, determined not to break her neck in the heels. Spike turned when he heard the clunking of her heels on the stairs. His jaw dropped as he took in her clothing. She smothered a smile. "Your turn in the shower, Spike."  
  
"Uh. . .Yeah, sure. Right." He stood up and walked quickly to her side. He let his eyes slip closed as he inhaled her scent. "What perfume are you wearing?"  
  
"Um. . .Tommy Girl."  
  
"I like it." He leaned closer to her, smelling the air near her neck. Then, he turned away and jogged up the stairs to shower.  
  
* * *  
  
The Bronze was packed tonight. Lots of kids dancing. Good band playing. Busy for a Wednesday night. Andrea and Spike seated themselves at a table. "You want anything to drink, pet?" he asked when a waiter made his way to the table.  
  
"Sure. I'll have a scotch and water."  
  
"Same." The waiter nodded and moved off to the bar.  
  
"So," Andrea said to Spike. "Tell me about you."  
  
"What'd you like to know?"  
  
"When did you first come to Sunnydale? How did you find out that you had a chip in your head? You know, the usual."  
  
Conversation came easily to them. They lost track of the time. As they talked, they drank. Spike, however, had a much higher tolerance for alcohol, being a vampire, and although Andrea could drink well for a twenty- one year old female, she still felt the effects of liquor faster than Spike did.  
  
When the band decided they wanted to take a break and asked if anyone would like to come up to the stage and kareoke while they rested for a few minutes, a slightly drunk Andrea stumbled up to the stage. Spike hesitated for a moment, but in the end curiosity won out and he let her go. She selected a song at the machine and took a microphone, standing in the middle of the stage. The music began and she started to sing.  
  
*Well he looks at me With those innocent eyes And says it looks like you're Wearing some kind of disguise Because your hair sticks up Your shoes are untied And I hope that you got That shirt at half price*  
  
He smiled at her, recognizing the Josie and the Pussycats song. Figures she'd chose something like this, even if she was trashed. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest.  
  
"Take it off," yelled a drunken frat boy seated at the table next to him. The man whistled when Andrea did a sexy little spin and touched the ground. Spike's fist connected with the guy's nose and the kid toppled off his stool as Spike's forehead exploded in pain. He cursed viciously and rubbed his temple in an attempt to ease the pain. He glanced up at Andrea, who winked at him suggestively and wiggled her hips to the music. He groaned and dropped his head into his palms. Why did she have to be so damn sexy when she was drunk? If it was possible, she was even more sexy than normal, but in a different way. Drunk Andrea seemed much more laid back than Sober Andrea. Her protective shield had been lowered a little with each drink she'd consumed.  
  
*And then he falls asleep On the livingroom couch With his sunglasses on And his tongue hangin' out*  
  
Oh, the things he could do to her with his tongue . . . No, bad. Bad Spike. Not the place for fantasies.  
  
She'd completed another chorus and was dancing wildly to the guitar solo. He couldn't help but laugh. Forget sexy. She looked completely ridiculous.  
  
*WHY DO YOU DO WHAT YOU DO TO ME BABY SHAKING MY CONFIDENCE DRIVING ME CRAZY YOU KNOW IF I COULD I'D DO ANYTHING FOR YOU*  
  
Suddenly, she stopped screaming part of the chorus and quieted considerably for the next line.  
  
*I don't mean to bore you Cuz you know I adore you*  
  
She repeated the chorus twice, and instead of slowly fading the words out, she ended abruptly with  
  
*Everything in my life would be alright Alright*  
  
Cheering ensued, men whistling appreciatively and women clapping as the nodded in approval of Andrea's choice of song. She stepped off the stage and made her way back to Spike, who watched her intently from the table. As she passed the now-bleeding frat boy, he slapped her ass, causing her to jump, then erupt onto a fit of giggles. Andrea playfully slapped his shoulder. "You're a naughty boy. Go to my room." Her speech was now slightly slurred as the man laughed.  
  
"Come on, pet. We're leaving," Spike growled, roughly grabbing hold of her upper arm and pulling her out of the club. 


	17. Once the Room Stops Spinning

***** Chapter 17: Once the Room Stops Spinning. . . *****  
  
Spike lifted Andrea's limp body out of the front seat of her Firebird and let her head fall to his shoulder. He twisted the knob to her front door open and kicked it shut when he stepped inside, flicking the lights on. Andrea was way too sloshed to walk on her own without causing serious injury to herself or him. Lots of alcohol, small woman. They were generally unmixy things. He made his way up the stairs and into her bedroom, where he laid her down on the bed and slipped the strappy heels off her slender feet. He hands hesitated at the hem of her shirt. This might be harder than he'd thought. Andrea giggled.  
  
"Once the room stops spinning. . .let's have sex." Spike smiled and let his gaze flicker away from her, recognizing the quote from 'Never Been Kissed.'  
  
"I don't think so, pet. You're too out of it. You wouldn't remember it in the morning and by the time I'm done with you I fully intend to be way too tired for an encore. For about ten minutes. Fifteen at the most." She smiled sympathetically at him and patted him on the head.  
  
"Oh, Spike. You're so noble. So good." He took her hand from his blond curls and kissed her palm, smiling in amusement. He pulled away from her, opened a drawer in her dresser and rummaged through her clothing, looking for something she could wear to bed. He finally settled on a baggy old t-shirt and some flannel pants. That way, if she puked on them, she wouldn't care in the morning. He set them on the bed next to Andrea.  
  
"Alright, love, I'm gunna head downstairs and set up the couch so I can get some sleep. You're running me ragged, woman. When I come back up here, I expect you to be in your PJs and under the covers. Okay?" She mock saluted him.  
  
"Yes, sir." He exited the room and went downstairs to hunt for an extra pillow or two and a blanket to make his night on the couch a little more comfy. When he was done a few minutes later, he slipped silently back up the stairs and peeked into Andrea's bedroom. Just as he'd expected, Andrea had gotten about halfway into her pajamas and passed out. The t- shirt was on. . .inside out. But she was still squeezed into those leather things she called pants. Designed solely for the purpose of making him horny as hell all night. Spike sighed and approached her cautiously. He wanted to make sure she was absolutely out of it before he helped her into the pants he's selected. He wasn't too keen on discovering just how dusty he might get if she woke up and he was pulling her pants off. Especially after what that asshole James had done to her.  
  
He lifted the hem of the t-shirt slowly and located the zipper at the back of her pants. He eased it down as far as it would go, before hooking his thumbs in the waist of the tight-fitting pants and slowly pulling them down over her hips. He artificially breathed slowly, attempting to maintain focus. But the feel of her smooth skin against the backs of his fingers. . .The pants caught at her knees and he pulled lightly on the cuffs of the pants, tugging them the rest of the way off. The next part would be much easier on his hormones. He grabbed the flannel PJ pants up off the bed next to him and worked them over her legs. Pajamas safely in place, he pulled back the covers and tucked Andrea in. He moved to the door, and paused, looking back at her.  
  
She looked so innocent and beautiful, a tiny bit of moonlight streaming in from under the drawn shade, bathing her face its glory. Damn it. Why did it have to be so hard? He loved her. That much he knew. But she could never love him, could she? Really. Logically, rationally thinking. What chance was there of that? She was a slayer, he was a vampire.  
  
He pushed his thoughts aside and, sighing sadly, pulled the door shut.  
  
* * *  
  
Andrea groaned and pulled a pillow over her head in an attempt to stifle the deafening roar in her ears. She heard a soft clink and peeked carefully out from under the pillow. Spike had set a glass of water on the nightstand. She felt the mattress give a little as he sat down near her knees. He chuckled softly and peeled the pillow away from her.  
  
"Here," he said softly, holding two Asprin out to her. Andrea sat up and took the pain relievers from him, picking up the water. She swallowed the pills and downed the cool glass of water.  
  
"What time is it?" she rasped.  
  
"A little after ten. How much of last night do you remember?"  
  
"The last thing I remember is some frat boy slapping my ass." Liar. You just don't want him to know that you remember everything. You're a huge chicken.  
  
"Come on down to the kitchen and have some coffee." She shook her head.  
  
"I don't wanna."  
  
"Come on, love. You can't stay in bed all day."  
  
"Watch me." She flopped back on the mattress and stuffed her head under another pillow.  
  
"Oh, I don't think so." He scooped his arm around her waist and tossed her over his shoulder, then walked out of the room.  
  
"Dammit, Spike. Put me down. And don't talk so loud. Have some respect for the extremely hungover." He laughed. Spike carefully set her on her feet when he reached the kitchen. "Oh, God. Nausea." She quickly sat down and took a few deep breaths. "Okay. I'm alright." Spike said nothing as he poured her a cup of coffee and a mug of blood for himself. Then,  
  
"You think you can handle some breakfast, pet?" He handed her the steaming, which she accepted gratefully.  
  
"It's possible." He nodded and began searching the kitchen for omelette supplies. "I don't need you to cook for me. I do know how."  
  
"S'okay. I want to. Not like I have anything better to do." He had a point there. They chatted comfortably while Spike cooked her breakfast and while she tentatively ate her omelette, not wanting to eat it too quickly in case her stomach decided it wasn't ready for yummy eggs. When she was finished, she took her plate to the sink and rinsed it off.  
  
"I'm gunna head upstairs and take a shower. I'll probably feel a little bit better once I've gotten cleaned up a little," she said, turning to face him.  
  
"No," he protested suddenly.  
  
"No? And why am I forbidden to wash?" Andrea raised a sleek brow. He smirked at her.  
  
"I'm going to run you a nice. . ." He rose from his chair. "Hot. . ." She let out a shaky breath as he pulled her up against him, positioning his lips a breath away from her ear. "Bubble bath." He slowly moved his lips until they hovered millimeters away from hers. "Okay?" he asked softly against her lips, knowing she couldn't have denied him anything at the moment.  
  
" 'kay," she squeaked. He leaned a little bit closer, but not enough to entirely close the distance between them, then pulled completely away from her, grinning smugly as he jogged up the stairs to the bathroom. Andrea gaped angrily after him. "Asshole." Jill meowed in agreement the table, where she was sitting, having watched the heated encounter and laid down, as if to say 'Oh, yeah. Won't be much longer now.'  
  
A/T: Look, I have a serious favour to ask of my readers. Please tell me specifically, with examples, what you like and dislike about my story. I'm pretty sure I can take the criticism, but if I freak out and stop writing it because of my insecurities it's all your fault. Kay, I'm joking. Is my dialogue okay? I'd ask my friends, but asking a friend's opinion of your story is like a little girl asking her dad if she's pretty. Thanks loads, Andie. 


	18. It's About Damn Time!

***** Chapter 18: It's About Damn Time *****  
  
Andrea sighed deeply and playfully blew a mound of bubbles towards her feet. She tossed her luffa at the bathtub wall and caught it when it bounced back. She heard a weak squeal as her arm brushed her rubber duck, Captain Nemo. She picked him up and set him carefully on top of the shampoo bottle, more out of boredom than anything else.  
  
She'd been in the bath for at least half an hour. She resignedly yanked the plug out of the drain with her toe and stood carefully up. She dried off and dressed in the clothes she'd brought in with her. Walking into her bedroom, she hesitated for a moment, before going to the only empty corner and sitting in it. She brought her knees to her chin, locking her arms around her shins.  
  
"What's wrong with me?" she asked herself. Okay, let's make a list. You're in love with a vampire. You can barely stop yourself from jumping his bones whenever your in the same room as him. He probably doesn't give a damn about you. Face it. You're screwed. You need to seek professional help. You -  
  
"What the bloody hell are you doing?" Spike frowned at the curled up version of Andrea. She fiddled with her sock, avoiding his gaze.  
  
"Remember when I told you that sometimes I have crazy logic?" He swallowed at the memory.  
  
"Yes, pet."  
  
"Well, this is one of those times." When he remained silent, she continued. "See, I figure that if I make myself really small, then there will be less of me that wants you, and I won't have to fight it so hard."  
  
"I see. I think." When she looked up at him, he was grinning. He held out a hand toward, and, when she took it, pulled her to her feet. He let his hands drop to her waist and whispered softly against her lips, "You don't have to fight it anymore." She lightly pressed her lips against his and moaned softly as his hand moved up her rib cage to cover her breast, his other hand pressing her against his growing erection. Andrea deftly removed Spike's belt, and unzipped his black jeans as she followed him down onto her bed. He groaned when she slipped her hand inside his pants and stroked him lightly. She smiled against his lips. His fingers tunneled into her golden locks, pushing through her lips with his tongue.  
  
"Why don't I have to fight it, Spike?" she asked quickly between kisses.  
  
"Because. . .Oh, God. . ."  
  
"Good answer." They heard a loud crash downstairs and jerked away from each other. After a moment of silence, Andrea said, "Jill probably just knocked something over." Then they heard an angry roar.  
  
"I don't think Jill would get that pissed off at a household appliance, love." She scooted off the bed and heard Spike do up his pants as she hurried to the door, jerking it open.  
  
The Mellora demon stood at the bottom of the stairs, the door lying flat on the floor. "Shit," Andrea cursed. Spike appeared beside her.  
  
"Bloody hell."  
  
It started to stomp furiously up the staircase toward them. Andrea grabbed Spike's hand and pulled him into the hall. Just as it reached the top of the stairs, Andrea yanked Spike over the railing. They landed on the floor below, the force of the landing knocking the wind out of them. She ran into the livingroom and grabbed a blanket, tossing it at Spike, who took the hint and covered his head with it. Andrea grabbed her car keys and they ran outside. She gave a sharp whistle, and Jill bounded out of the house and into the car. Spike jumped into the passenger seat as Andrea started the car and squealed out of the driveway, hoping they could get somewhere safe before Spike got a little flamey.  
  
"My crypt," he suggested, and she swerved to the left, in the direction of the cemetery. "I'd also appreciate it if you'd hurry," he said in a slightly panicky voice. "I'm starting to sizzle." She stomped on the break and pulled Spike out of the car, dodging headstones as they ran toward the mausoleum. Andrea threw open the door and they stumbled inside, Jill right on their heels. Spike tossed the blanket to the floor with a yell, stomping out the flames that had ignited somewhere between the Johnson memorial and Dottie Parker's grave. His chest heaving from exertion, he gave her a boyish grin. "That your friend?" She nodded.  
  
"Funny. Yeah, that's my good old buddy Mel."  
  
"He's not so tough." Spike shrugged. "I could have taken him." Andrea walked slowly towards him, placing her arms around his neck.  
  
"My hero." She ran her fingers through his bleached curls. He kissed her neck.  
  
"S'not fair," he said softly against her skin.  
  
"What's not fair?"  
  
"Us gettin' all worked up like that. Without actually gettin' to hit anything." His mouth had worked its way to her lips.  
  
"You're right," she gasped. "Not fair at all."  
  
"But I can think of a few ways to . . .unwind." He pushed her against the cool stone wall, bracing her there with his hips. He kissed her fervently and pulled her shirt over her head, revealing her full breasts, rising and falling heavily beneath the lacey cups of her bra. He placed a moist kiss on the swell of her breast. She curled her fingers into his hair.  
  
"Spike, this is wrong," she moaned as his fingers teased her nipple into a small, hard bead. She tugged his black tee off him and ran her hands over his smoothed, muscled chest.  
  
"Then why does it feel so right?" he asked against her lips. She didn't answer. Just helped him remove her hip-huggers. He carried her to his sarcophagus, which, surprisingly, was covered by a few pillows and a comforter, but she was too distracted to comment. Spike flicked open the clasp of her bra, tossing it to the floor, before peeling the matching panties down over her hips. When he moved his fingers to the most sensitive spot of her body, she gasped, and he covered her mouth with his, sweeping its heated interior with his tongue. He pushed his fingers into her. She was warm, tight and wet. She moaned in ecstasy. Andrea frantically yanked at his belt, until she tore it out of the loops on his jeans, then she pushed the denim pants down over his hips. They fell to the floor and landed in a careless pile.  
  
"Spike, please," she begged him. He smiled.  
  
"Please what?" She dug her nails into his shoulders.  
  
"I need you inside me." He maneuvered himself between her thighs, spreading them easily. She cried out when he thrust into her. It was all he could do to keep from coming that second. She was so snug and hot. He groaned and began to move inside her, pulling almost completely out of her before burying himself inside her again. She locked her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into her. He inched her legs higher. "Oh, God. . .Spike. . ." He moved a hand between their sweat-slicked bodies and expertly pressed the tiny bead of flesh he sought. Andrea could feel her muscles tightening, her climax building as liquid heat seared every inch of her body, radiating out from every spot Spike touched.  
  
"Let it go, love," he whispered to her. "Come for me." His erotic words pushed her over the edge. She screamed his name, shuddering violently beneath him. He came with her, pouring the frustrations of the past week into her inviting body.  
  
Jill, who was curled up on one of Spike's chairs, gazed at them boredly, as if to say, 'It's about damn time.'  
  
A/N: What do you think? Hot enough for ya? Sorry it took me so long, but I just couldn't resist making them suffer. It was masterful. ;) Anyways, review. Tell me what you think. 


	19. Unwelcome Visitor

***** Chapter 19: Unwelcome Visitor *****  
  
Andrea let her eyelids flicker open and gave a contented sigh as she came fully awake. Spike's arms were around her, his chest pressed up against her back.  
  
"You awake, love?" he asked softly, kissing the creamy skin on her shoulder.  
  
"Yeah." She turned in his arms to face him. He gently brushed a few stray hairs off of her cheek. She lightly let her fingers roam over his features, over the tip of his nose. He pressed his fingertips into the skin above her hip bone and she giggled involuntarily, causing him to arch an eyebrow.  
  
"Did I find a ticklish spot?" he asked, feigning amazement.  
  
"Maybe," she admitted timidly. He gently pinched her there again and she swatted at his hand. "Stop it."  
  
"Oh, looky, everyone. Slayer's got a ticklish spot." She eyed his wearily.  
  
"Oh, no, you don't." She screamed when he held her against him, unable to defend herself properly as he nipped the sensitive skin near her hip. She frantically tried to push him away, laughing and squeaking breathlessly. Andrea pushed against his chest, trying her hardest to get off the sarcophagus and away from Spike. "Stop, stop, stop." He ignored her pleas, laughing at the lame attempts to remove herself from his embrace. "Spike you're a huge jerk," she laughed, "and I'm gunna make you pay for this."  
  
"Oh, really, pet? How's that?" She flipped him onto his back, straddling him, pretty much confirming his suspicions that if getting tickled really bothered her that much, she would have stopped him. She pinned his wrists above his head, leaning close to him. She was a fraction of an inch away from kissing him when she took both his wrists in one hand, her other hand moving somewhere beyond his vision. Andrea's free hand returned, a single white feather held in her grasp. He swallowed in anticipation. "Where'd you get that?" he asked, eyeing the feather wearily. She smirked.  
  
"Out of your pillow."  
  
"What are you gunna do?"  
  
"We're gunna have a little fun, Spike," she whispered sexily against his neck. She leaned down next to the sarcophagus and scooped his belt up off the floor, then used it to bind his hands above his head. Andrea trailed the feather over his cheekbones, then his nose. She used the tip of it to tickle his lips, then dragged it down his throat. She took her time, making sure not to miss an inch of his hard flesh. By the time she reached his bellybutton, he was gasping in arousal. He begged her to stop, it was too much.  
  
"Alright, you win," he groaned as she dragged the feather lightly down his abdomen. His eyes drifted shut as she moved the tortuous device lower, but instead of turning her attention to the most obvious spot, he felt the feather graze the sole of his foot. He jerked against the belt binding his hands together. "For God's sake, woman. Have mercy." She laughed and inched the feather slowly up his legs to his muscled thighs. "Bloody hell," he cursed, when instead of trailing the feather up the length of him, she took him in the satiny heat of her mouth. He trembled as orgasm neared.  
  
"Spike," she murmured.  
  
"What?" he growled, tossing his forearm over his blue eyes.  
  
"Come for me."  
  
* * *  
  
"Remind me never to make you mad," Spike joked, dragging her up his body to kiss her passionately. She smiled against his lips. He probed her lips with his tongue, asking permission to deepen the kiss. Andrea submissively parted her lips, eager to let him delve into the silky heat of her mouth. "Or maybe I should piss you off more often." She dragged her teeth over his bottom lip.  
  
"Maybe." They heard a low growling sound and she laughed softly against his lips.  
  
"Hungry, pet?"  
  
"Maybe a little. It comes from having hot, mindless sex all day with an incredibly sexy vampire without eating anything. Food wise." He laughed and slipped off the sarcophagus, moving to the fridge on the other side of the room. She wrapped herself in a bed sheet toga-style and joined him.  
  
"I don't have much in the way of food, but I do stock up on fruit when I can." He opened the refrigerator, tossing a smooth red apple in her direction. She caught it out of the air.  
  
"Thanks." She took a bite of it as Spike pulled a cup of blood from the fridge. Jill gave a quick purr and jumped onto the counter, gazing at them expectantly.  
  
"Sorry, kitten. Don't have any milk. Not used to having animals in my crypt. I'll try to make it a little more cat friendly for the next time you visit." He gave her a friendly scratch under the chin and she meowed forgivingly.  
  
"What time do you think it is?" Andrea asked suddenly. She hadn't had a chance to grab her watch of the dresser at home with all the chaotic running from demons. Spike walked to the heavy door of the crypt and opened it tentatively, prepared to be bombarded by sunlight. Cool moonlight bathed the floor of the crypt, stars twinkling in the night sky.  
  
"Guess it's pretty late."  
  
"Think it's safe to go back to my place?" she asked softly.  
  
"Don't know. We should probably take a sweep around the cemetery. Look for anything unusual."  
  
"Like jerks with ritualistic junk?" she suggested helpfully. He rolled his eyes and shot her a crooked smile.  
  
"Sure, love." He strode to the sarcophagus and yanked on his wrinkled jeans. "Get dressed and we'll go patrol." She thrust her lower lip out in a ridiculous pout.  
  
"I don't wanna leave. I can think of so many much more. . .enjoyable ways to spend my nights. And days. And all the times." He chuckled softly and tossed her discarded clothing at her. She started to dress, then looked around. "Have you seen my underwear?" she asked.  
  
"Nope," he lied. He'd stuffed the lace bikinis underneath his pillow when she was asleep. She shrugged and pulled on her jeans. She tied her shoes as Spike moved to the door. He stepped outside, and then reappeared again, attached by the throat to the Mellora demon's gigantic arm. "Little help here, please," he rasped. Andrea took a running jump and knocked the demon over, forcing it to release Spike. She gave it a killer right hook to the jawbone, scraping her knuckles on the rough flesh. Spike kicked it in the temple. It roared angrily and began to form a fireball.  
  
"Spike, get down!" Andrea yelled as the demon tossed a flame toward her lover. He rolled to the ground to dodge it. The demon kicked her in the chest, sending her flying to the other side of the room. She hit the hard stonewall and sank painfully to the floor. When she managed to rise, grasping her ribs and stumble forward, the demon had Spike in a headlock, its other hand holding a ball of fire.  
  
"I'll shove this into his heart," the demon threatened. Andrea hesitated. "Come with me willingly and I let him live."  
  
"Andrea, no," Spike pleaded. "He'll kill you if you go." He yelled in pain when the demon tightened its hold on his neck.  
  
"No, don't hurt him," Andrea screamed, taking a step toward him. "I'll go with you."  
  
"You have made a wise choice."  
  
"No, Andrea, don't do it. Don't be stupid. The ritual ends the world."  
  
"I know that, Spike. I can handle this." She turned to the demon. "Let him go."  
  
"Step outside," it commanded. She complied. The demon dragged Spike outside with it, then tossed him back into the crypt. It grabbed hold of Andrea.  
  
"No," Spike screamed, running toward the door of the crypt. Andrea raised a hand, magically forming a barrier around the crypt that he couldn't get through. It would wear off soon, but at least he was safe for now. The demon dragged her through the cemetery, pressing a pressure point on her neck. The last thing she remembered before she passed out was Spike frantically trying to break the shield and follow them. 


	20. Help

***** Chapter 20: Help *****  
  
Her mind slowly began to unfog. The first thing she could process was a low whistle. Someone was whistling the tune to the Band-aide jingle. Andrea blinked, trying to focus her double vision.  
  
The whistling halted and there was silence for a moment. ?Oh, good. You're up,? came a familiar voice. She forced herself to hold her head up. She gaped at what she saw. She shook her head in disbelief.  
  
?No. This has to be a joke.?  
  
?Sorry, hun. No joke. It's really me,? said James Cain, kneeling in front of her. He tenderly pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.  
  
?Why?? she forced out of her tightening throat.  
  
?Why what? Why am I ending the world?? She nodded. ?Because I can. I figure the hell gods will be so impressed with me, that they'll make me one of them.?  
  
?James, you're a maggot.,? she spat. ?I don't know why I didn't realize it years ago. You're a worthless, vile, disgusting maggot.? Rage flashed in his dark eyes and he furiously backhanded her across the face, opening a fresh cut on her lip.  
  
?Shut up, slut. You're a filthy whore. Always was, always will be.? He straightened and looked casually at his watch. ?Oh, look at the time. I better get that dress on you so you're ready for the ritual.?  
  
* * *  
  
?Bloody hell,? Spike cursed, tossing a stone at the doorway. It bounced back.  
  
He'd been sitting here for almost an hour, throwing the damn rock at the door; it bouncing off the barrier back to him.  
  
Jill had been lying on the counter, watching him, as if waiting for him to get up and go help her owner. But Andrea was so damn stubborn. How could she do that barrier spell?  
  
He tossed the stone again and it bounced off the barrier and back to him. Some way it had for the past hour.  
  
God, if anything happened to her . . . No. He couldn't think that way. She was very capable. Probably fine. Yeah, right. Probably dead. Hell would be spilling on Earth any second now and all because he'd let that damn Mellora demon grab hold of him.  
  
He threw the stone again, expecting it to come right back to him. But it didn't. It hit the barrier, which caved a little, then sprang back to the floor a few feet away from him.  
  
The barrier was weakening. But why?  
  
Andrea must've cast a spell that was only temporary. God, bless her.  
  
Spike jumped to his feet and ran to the door. He stuck his hand out the doorway, feeling the barrier give a little. He pushed against it harder, until it disappeared completely and he toppled to the ground.  
  
Okay. He was outside. Now what? He couldn't take that Mellora alone. He needed help. He just hoped the help he needed was back from LA.  
  
He ran as quickly was possible to Buffy's house and threw the door open without bothering to knock.  
  
?Slayer!? he yelled. Buffy and Dawn ran into the entry from the kitchen. ?They got her,? he explained. ?I tried to stop it??  
  
?Spike, we don't have time to worry about what we tried to do. Go raid the weapon's trunk. Pack up everything you can carry. I have to call Giles.? Spike nodded and disappeared into the livingroom. Buffy turned to Dawn. ?Go get Willow and Tara. We're going to need all the help we can get.?  
  
?What about Xander and Anya?? Dawn frowned.  
  
?I'll call them.? Dawn's lip quivered.  
  
?Andrea's gunna be okay, right? We'll save her?? Buffy smoothed her sister's hair down lovingly.  
  
?Yeah, Dawn. She'll be fine.? Then she grabbed the phone off the hook and dialed the number from memory.  
  
When she was done talking to Giles, she met Spike, Dawn, Willow and Tara in the living room.  
  
?All right. Giles said that this ritual would be held somewhere dark. Secluded. Probably abandoned.?  
  
?Peaches' mansion,? Spike suggested. Buffy nodded.  
  
?That was my first guess, too. Let's go. We're meeting Xander and Anya at the intersection between Crawford Street and St. George Avenue.?  
  
A/N: Sorry this chapter was kinda short.I'll try and make the next one longer and get it to you as soon as possible. Also, quick question. I haven't heard anything from Sorrow and I'm terribly confused. ;) He/She usually reviews a lot and I haven't gotten anything from him/her in quite a while. I'm concerned. SORROW, IF YOU'RE OUT THERE, REVIEW SO THAT I KNOW YOU ARE STILL ALIVE!!! Okay, thanks. Think that's everything..c ya. 


	21. Spike, Meet James

***** Chapter 21: Spike, Meet James *****  
  
"When I get out of this chair, I'm going to kill you. Slowly," Andrea assured James, glaring at him with hate-filled hazel eyes. "You were my friend."  
  
"Aw, babe, don't be like that." He ripped a length of silvery duct tape off the roll and approached her. "You know," he said, pressing the tape to her lips. "You really do look just exceptional in that dress. Almost. . ." He paused, thinking. "Royal." She jerked against her bindings, causing the chair to jump slightly as she attempted to get closer to him, possibly to do some damage. He grinned. "Yeah. You always were a feisty little one, weren't you? Even when you were flashing me for ten dollars. I could tell you had spunk."  
  
Oh, I'll give you spunk, she thought menacingly. Just give me the chance.  
  
He had changed her into the blue velvety dress, making sure she was bound tightly while he did, then retied her to the chair, strapping her ankles and wrists to the chair's arms and legs.  
  
"Well, would you look at that," he said. "It's almost time for the ritual." He moved to a trunk against the wall and opened it. "Don't worry, gorgeous. You'll be famous. And I'm sure this won't hurt a bit." He paused. "Actually, I imagine it will hurt quite a lot."  
  
Her eyes widened when he withdrew a tray of medical instruments, Latex gloves, a roll of paper towels and a heavy text of some sort. James grinned as he set the tray on the floor next to her, kneeling in front of her chair. Then, he opened the text to the correct page and consulted its context.  
  
"Ah," he said, picking up a scalpel. "Looks like the first step is to remove. . .your. . .What is that?" He frowned, looking more closely at the book. "Oh, I see. Your kidney." She groaned and rolled her eyes. "That's more easily accessible form your back, am I right?" He moved around behind her. She twisted her neck around, attempting to see what he was doing. She heard the snap of Latex on skin as he pulled on the gloves. She winced when she felt the cold, sharp tip of the scalpel cut through the dress and draw blood from her skin. Pain cut through her and she whimpered, gritting her teeth. "Oh, wait a second." She sighed frustratedly. "I should probably get the fire set up first, don't you think? That way your kidney doesn't dry out before I toss it in the flame."  
  
He walked quickly to a cupboard on the wall and, opening it, withdrew an ancient looking bowl and some herbs, strange spheres and multicolored flakes of something. Probably mystical.  
  
"Oh, gosh. I should hurry. Only around seven minutes to get this done." He tossed the flakes, some ginger, root of ivy, and two of the ribbed spheres into the bowl, then added a lit match into the mix. The blend erupted into black and blue flames. "Ah, there we are. He moved behind her again. She stared at the fire, trying not to concentrate on the scalpel slicing into her creamy skin. She felt blood pouring from the deep cut and she groaned in pain, her eyes fluttering shut.  
  
* * *  
  
Spike, Buffy, Anya, Xander, Willow, Tara and Dawn all ran toward the old mansion on Crawford Street.  
  
He just prayed they weren't too late. All they had to do was stall the ritual until the opening was gone. But Spike didn't care about the world. Keep her safe. Andrea was the only thing that mattered. He couldn't bare the thought of her hurt. If she died, he could never forgive himself.  
  
They pushed open the door and came face to face with the Mellora demon. It roared at the sight of them.  
  
Buffy rushed it, swinging an axe at its head. It swatted at her. Willow began to form a blue ball of light that hovered above her hands. She said it would make Spike's chip less effective for maybe twenty minutes. Spike swung at the demon, scraping his knuckles on the hard flesh. Xander shot the crossbow at it. The arrow bounced off.  
  
Buffy, Giles had said to her on the phone, it has to be Spike. No one else can stop this. He has to do it, and him alone. Stay out of it. Distract the demon, but Spike has to stop the ritual. It is written, Buffy remembered him saying.  
  
"Spike, go!" she yelled over the demon's roar. "We can handle the demon," she added when he hesitated. "GO!"  
  
That was the only invitation he needed. He ran to the massive oak door that separated the foyer from the rest of the mansion. He jerked it open and ran inside.  
  
And saw Andrea, tied to a chair, gagged, whimpering softly.  
  
"Oh, God. Andrea -"  
  
A man stood up from behind the chair, a bloody scalpel clutched in a Latex-covered hand. The man looked vaguely impressed as he took in Spike's appearance.  
  
"Well, good evening. Can I help you?" he asked politely. Andrea looked up weakly, and her some emotion flickered through her gorgeous hazel eyes when she saw him. She tried to speak, but whatever she was attempting to say was too muffled by the gag to understand.  
  
"Get the hell away from her," Spike growled. "Sorry, man, can't do that. I'm a little busy, why don't you come back tomorrow?" he suggested. "Oh, my. Where are my manners? I'm James Cain." Spike inhaled an artificial breath, recognizing the name.  
  
"Andrea's editor."  
  
"That's right. I'm sorry, and you are?"  
  
"Spike."  
  
"Well, that clears everything up, doesn't it?" James said sarcastically. "Let me guess. Andie's latest boy toy." It was more a statement than a question. He moved around the chair, tossing the medical instrument to the ground, and approached Spike. "Yes, she's quite the little player. Don't feel bad, I've been there. Dynamite in the sack, though, isn't she?" James's eyes flashed with amusement when Spike growled menacingly from deep within his throat. James leaned toward Spike. "I'll bet it just kills you that I got there first, huh? Especially that I was her first. Popped her cherry," he bragged. Spike's fist connected with James's cheekbone, drawing blood.  
  
"Liar. You tried to rape her. She told me."  
  
It never occurred to Spike that instead of exploding in pain, the only thing he felt in his cranium was a painful twinge that lasted only a few seconds.  
  
"Sure, that's the way she tells it," James said, tenderly touching the fresh cut on his cheek. He gazed absentmindedly at the blood that was smeared on his fingers when her drew them back. "But she's a slut. She's like the town doorknob. Everybody's had a turn."  
  
Spike grabbed James by the shirt collar and threw him up against the wall. Andrea watched from her chair, in a bit of a daze, as Spike repeatedly punched James. Finally, James seemed to get sick of being Spike's punching bag and brought his foot up, kicking Spike in the chest to force him away. He stumbled backward and fell to the floor. He grunted at the sudden contact with the hard floor. James kicked him in the stomach and, despite her injuries, Andrea jerked against the ropes. James stood over Spike, a foot on either side of the vampire, and hit him in the jaw. Spike grabbed James by the neck and flipped him onto his back. James glanced at his watch casually when Spike cut off his air supply.  
  
"Sorry, Spike, my boy. Can we finish this in a few minutes? I got something to do." James pushed Spike off him with amazing strength, considering he was human, and quickly scooped up the blood-stained scalpel. He returned to Andrea's back and reopened the cut, which had already started closing over as a result of slayer strength. Spike started toward James, but he quickly moved the scalpel to Andrea's throat. Spike halted in his spot. "Take another step," James challenged. "I dare you." Spike's blue eyes glinted dangerously.  
  
"Don't touch her."  
  
"Oh, I'll touch her. I have. Did she tell you? She likes to be hurt. It turns her on," he taunted. Andrea threw her head back, hitting James in the nose. He hadn't been expecting her to be well enough to fight. He clutched his nose, blood pouring from it. Spike flew toward him as Andrea jumped in the chair, smashing it on the ground. The force shattered the chairs legs, freeing her feet. She slid off the chair. At least she was able to walk, even if it was unbelievable painful. She ripped off the gag and started working the ropes off her wrists. Spike gripped James's head in both hands, ready to snap his neck.  
  
"Wait," Andrea said. Spike looked up at her, stopping the movement. Andrea drew her leg back and delivered a vicious kick to James's lower back. He screamed in agony. "Asshole. I trusted you." She glared at him. Then gestured to Spike to continue. "Alright, I'm done." Spike shrugged and cruelly snapped James's neck, severing his spinal cord. Then he stood and walked to Andrea. As he wrapped his arms carefully around her waist, wary of her wounds, her knees gave out in a dizzy spell brought about by blood loss. He caught her against his chest and lovingly pressed a kiss to her temple.  
  
"Teach that poof to mess with my girl."  
  
A/N: Hey everybody!! So, was that chapter any good? I was kinda iffy about some stuff, but maybe that's just me being self conscious or overly critical. Feedback's nice, if you don't mind. ;) I'll try to update soon! 


	22. Confessions

***** Chapter 22: Confessions *****  
  
Andrea was barely conscious as Spike scooped her up in his arms. Her head fell against his shoulder. Please, God, don't let it be too late, he prayed silently as he moved out of the room into the foyer to join Buffy and the others.  
  
The slayer that Spike wasn't carrying came running toward him. A headless demon lay slumped in the corner. The gang looked a bit bloody, and slightly ragged, but had fared pretty well against the Mellora.  
  
"Did the spell work?" Willow asked. "Is she okay?"  
  
"Yes, it did. We have to get her to the hospital. She's lost a lot of blood."  
  
* * *  
  
"I'm glad she's going to be alright," Buffy said, joining Spike beside Andrea's hospital bed.  
  
"Yeah, me too," he admitted softly.  
  
"They'd gotten her to the hospital in record time. When they'd reached Sunnydale General, she'd been placed on a gurney and hurried to an emergency exam room.  
  
Andrea had then received a blood transfusion and twelve stitches in the back. Her other wounds had been treated with peroxide. They weren't too serious. An IV slowly dripped antibiotics into her blood stream in order to prevent a nasty infection in the amateur surgical wound on her back.  
  
Spike tenderly took her hand, as Andrea lay sleeping on the cot.  
  
"You really love her, don't you?" Buffy asked softly.  
  
"Yeah, Slayer. I really do."  
  
"Have you told her yet?" Spike shook his head, tears beginning to well in his eyes.  
  
"What if she'd died?" His voice cracked but he ignored it and continued. "What if I'd never gotten to tell her -" He was cut off by a weak moan coming from the small blonde woman on the bed in front of him. Andrea's eyes fluttered open and she smiled weakly up at him.  
  
"Hey, you," she greeted.  
  
"I'll leave you two alone," Buffy said, winking at Andrea as she backed out of the room. After a short silence, Andrea spoke again.  
  
"How did you find me?" She had no need to elaborate; he knew what she meant.  
  
"I have my ways, love. Are you in pain?" he asked softly.  
  
"No, not at all." The pale tint in her complexion betrayed her denial. He smiled at her stubbornness.  
  
"Liar." She struggled into a sitting position, gasping sharply at the pain that stabbed through her back at the movement.  
  
"Can I go home now?" she asked.  
  
"I don't know, pet." They looked up when a shadow appeared in the doorway.  
  
"Ms. Summers told me you were awake. I'm Dr. Palmer. I examined you earlier. I put in your stitches."  
  
"Can I go home now?" she repeated.  
  
The doctor was a short woman, maybe 5'2". She had long, black hair pulled back in a ponytail and warm brown eyes. Andrea liked her instantly. Dr. Palmer chuckled.  
  
"Not so fast. Let me examine you again, then we'll see."  
  
* * *  
  
"Spike, I'm not a goddamn cripple," Andrea assured him, even though she accepted his hand as he helped her out of her car. He grinned at her indignity.  
  
"I got Buffy to bring Jill back here from my crypt and clean up a little."  
  
"Thank you." She swung the door to her house open and stepped inside, sighing deeply. "It's good to be home."  
  
Jill rushed to greet them, gracefully leaping into Andrea's waiting arms. The cat affectionately licked her owner's nose. "Hey, baby," she said, lovingly scratching Jill's neck. "Miss me?" The cat meowed softly and gazed at Spike.  
  
"I know, I know. I got her here, didn't I?" Spike said at Jill's accusatory glare. She nuzzled his hand forgivingly. Andrea set her on the ground, wincing slightly when she attempted to remove her coat and pain stabbed through her. "Here," Spike offered quickly, rushing to her aid.  
  
"Thanks," she said as he helped her slip off the coat.  
  
"My pleasure, kitten. Come on," he continued, hanging her coat on the rack, "let's get you upstairs and into something a little less. . ." He searched for the right word. "Bloody." She smiled as he followed her up the stairs to her bedroom.  
  
"I've been meaning to ask you something," she started, stepping into her room. He nodded for her to continue. "Why didn't you chip go off when you fought James?" He arched his eyebrows.  
  
"I'm surprised you caught that, love. You were a little out of it."  
  
"I almost didn't."  
  
"Red worked a bit of temporary mojo. It's probably already worn off." She nodded.  
  
"Can we torch this dress once I'm out of it?" she asked, only half joking. He smiled.  
  
"Sure, pet. Whatever you want." She took a step toward him, hazel eyes flashing with emotion.  
  
"Whatever I want?" she asked suggestively. 


	23. Normal Again

***** Chapter 23: Normal Again *****  
  
"Mmm hmm," he nodded affirmatively, smirking with amusement as she pushed off his red over-shirt.  
  
"I need you, Spike. Now."  
  
He gently pulled her against him and tenderly kissed her. One hand entwined in her hair, the other slowly easing down the zipper of the ritualistic dress. She parted her lips, allowing him to slip his tongue inside. He peeled the blue velvet off her shoulders, leaving it to rest at her waist for the moment. She tugged Spike's black t-shirt over his head and placed a heated kiss in the middle of his chest.  
  
He felt a strange heat radiate through his body from where she touched him when he was tickled by a light breath brushing over his skin. He could have sworn she'd just whispered 'I love you, Spike' but he chalked it up to wishful thinking on his part. He kissed her neck and heard her moan when he brushed his thumb over her hardening nipple. He kissed his way down her neck while he gently caressed one soft mound, before moving his mouth to cover her taught nipple. He adjusted the dress, letting it fall to the floor. He was shocked when he realized that Andrea wasn't wearing panties, but smiled against her skin when he remembered why.  
  
She pulled Spike onto the bed, her thighs spread easily as he lay between them. She unsnapped his jeans and eased the zipper down over the erection that was straining against the black denim. Andrea toed the pants over his hips, down his legs and they landed with a soft whoosh on the floor.  
  
Without warning, he rolled onto his back, leaving her perched atop him. She blinked down at him as he smirked at her surprise. She laughed softly and lowered herself down onto the hard length of him. For a moment, she didn't move, relishing the fell of him deep and snuggly inside her. Then she rolled her hips, ignoring the pain that shot through her back.  
  
"Andrea. . .Oh, Jesus," he groaned. His hands come to rest on her hipbones as she moved on top of him. Their breathing became increasingly irregular and ragged, their climax mounting until she shuddered violently with her orgasm, followed closely by Spike.  
  
After a few minutes, which they used to get their breathing under control, she slid off of him and curled up against him, resting her cheek on his chest. He lightly ran his fingers in circles on her shoulder.  
  
Neither of them spoke, just enjoying the aftermath of their passionate lovemaking.  
  
But something was different to Andrea. She frowned slightly, attempting to identify exactly what it was that was different. She heard a soft thump from Spike's chest. Thump? What the . . .? Oh, my God!  
  
"Spike?" Andrea said, sitting up and pressing her fingers against the inside of his wrist. Blood pounded beneath his warm skin. "Oh, my God, Spike." He looked completely bewildered.  
  
"What? What is it, love?"  
  
"Your. . .Your heart is beating." He frowned. He placed two fingers against his neck, eyes widening when he felt a strong and healthy pulse beating against his fingertips.  
  
"Bloody hell! I'm alive!"  
  
* * *  
  
It was almost noon, and Andrea stood in the open doorway of her house and watched Spike happily running up and down the street. He returned to her lawn.  
  
"Come on," he laughed. She smiled and shook her head, not moving. Jill bounded out the door and quickly climbed up a tree in the yard to watch. "Don't make me come up there and get you," he warned. She just grinned wider and shook her head again. "Suit yourself, love." He jogged up to her, and she turned to run back into the house, but he scooped her up by the waist, dragging her outside with him. Then he plopped her on the ground in the middle of her lawn.  
  
"What are you. . . ?" She trailed off as he moved to the flower bed next to the door and fiddled with a tap. Her eyes widened with realization. "Oh, no, you don't. I don't think so!" She'd just started to stand when the steady spray of freezing cold water hit her. She shrieked. "You asshole!" She tackled him to the ground, her sopping clothes soaking Spike almost as badly. She wrestled the garden hose from his grip, hazel eyes glinting devilishly when she shoved the nozzle down the front of his jeans.  
  
"Sodding hell," he cursed loudly. Spike frantically yanked the hose out of his pants, tossing it to the side. Then he laughed, dragging her down so he could kiss her.  
  
Before the kiss could progress into something more serious, Andrea pulled away. He looked at her questioningly. She smiled slightly.  
  
"Don't want to give the neighbors a free peep show," she explained. They stood and moved to the door. He gazed down at her, brushing a dripping strand of hair away from her face.  
  
"Pet, what's wrong? Figured you'd be happy," he said, his blue eyes filled with confusion.  
  
"I am happy. I just . . ." She trailed off, then tried again. "This changes things. For both of us. I. . .think we should take some time to think about things. Figure out what we want." He swallowed.  
  
"How much time?"  
  
"I dunno. A few weeks, maybe?" Her voice was shaky, her eyes echoing the pain and hurt in his own.  
  
"Fine," he said harshly, turning away and hurrying to the sidewalk.  
  
"Spike, I. . ." she called. She what? She lots of things. She was sorry. She was confused. She had just done the hardest thing she'd ever had to do. She loved him.  
  
But he was human now. He could be with any woman he wanted in the whole world. What would he want with her?  
  
A/N: Oh, I know. . .Please don't hate me. I promise everything will work out for the best in the end. Trust me. I've gotten them this far, I'm not gunna just drop them. I'll try to update soon to make it easier on you guys. Thanks to everyone who's still reading. Andie ;) 


	24. Misery

***** Chapter 24: Misery *****  
  
"How long has it been since you've talked to her?" Buffy asked Spike.  
  
"Almost three weeks. Three bloody weeks, Slayer. I'm sodding miserable. I can't live without her."  
  
They were at a table in the Bronze. The Scoobies had been seeing a lot of Spike since he'd turned human. Not that they hadn't seen a lot of him before.  
  
"She just needs some time to think. She's confused."  
  
"Well, she's not the only one. She loves me, I know it. I could see it in her eyes." Buffy said nothing. "Have you talked to her?"  
  
"No," Buffy lied. "Not since a few days after you became human again."  
  
She'd called Andrea about a week ago to tell her what they'd found on Spike's sudden humanity. Evidently, it was some prophecy (again) about a love profession from a slayer, etc. Andrea said yes, she had said she loved him, but he hadn't heard her. So Buffy lied to Spike. Told him it had to do with him saving the world. And he bought it.  
  
"Hey, I know that you're pretty depressed about Andrea, but does this also have anything to do with what James told you?" He frowned in incomprehension.  
  
"How did you know about that?" He hadn't told anyone about what that prat had said to him.  
  
"Oh, please. I've fought enough of them to know that bad guys love to talk. Whatever he said, I can pretty much guarantee you it's not true." He sighed.  
  
"Thanks, In the back of my mind, I think I knew that, but it's nice to hear someone tell me."  
  
"Don't worry. Everything will work out for the best. I promise."  
  
* * *  
  
"Andie, you alright?" April asked from the hall outside the bathroom.  
  
"Yeah." The door opened and Andrea's red-headed cousin appeared, gazing down at her. Andrea sat on the floor next to the toilet, dressed in gray sweats, clutching a bottle of Pepto-bismal in one hand.  
  
"Hey," Ben said, materializing next to April. "Sure you're all right? I mean, that's, like, the seventeenth time you've barfed today."  
  
"He's right."  
  
"I'm fine, guys. Really. Ben, would you mind running to the drug store to get me another bottle of Pepto-bismal?"  
  
"How 'bout let's not and say we did?"  
  
"Stop being a shithead," Andrea playfully scolded her older brother.  
  
"Yeah, oka- no."  
  
"I'll kick you ass," she warned, shaking her fist menacingly at him. He considered this.  
  
"Yeah, okay. I'll go." April whispered something in Ben's ear as he turned to leave. He arched an eyebrow at her. "What for?"  
  
"Just do it." Ben shrugged and left. A few seconds later, they heard the door shut. Andrea got to her feet and sluggishly went downstairs to sit at the kitchen table with some flat gingerale.  
  
April and Ben had gotten there three days before. Ben had been sleeping on the couch and April had a cot in the study.  
  
April had left her family back home in Canada. Her husband Cody and two year old daughter Sydney were taking care of their dog, Lucifer.  
  
"So," April joined Andrea at the table. "I'm usually pretty good about sensing stuff, so I haven't brought up Wonder Boy yet. But I'm about to." Andrea groaned.  
  
"April, don't. Please."  
  
"Look, I've always been able to tell when you're depressed. Do you love him?"  
  
"It doesn't matter. He doesn't love me."  
  
"Did he tell you that?"  
  
"No," she admitted timidly.  
  
"Then what happened?" April frowned.  
  
"He turned human." He cousin grinned.  
  
"That's great! Right?"  
  
"No. I mean, yes. For him."  
  
"But?"  
  
"He's human. He can be normal. He can move away and -"  
  
"- and have a normal girlfriend?" April finished. Andrea nodded sadly. "Has he moved yet?"  
  
"No. Buffy said that he's been moping around looking for a job."  
  
"Because he loves you."  
  
Just then, Ben came through the front door, carrying a plastic bag. He held it up.  
  
"Got your shit, Andie." April took the bag from Ben and tossed the Pepto-bismal to Andrea. Then she reached into the bag again, producing a small box, which she slid across the table to her cousin.  
  
"Oh, you've got to be kidding," Andrea said, looking down at the box. "A pregnancy test?"  
  
* * *  
  
"There, you happy?" Andrea said, coming out of the bathroom. "I took your damn pregnancy test. But I'm not pregnant," she added stubbornly. April shrugged.  
  
"At least we'll know for sure. How long do we have to wait?"  
  
"I think ten minutes. A pink plus sign is supposed to show up if I'm pregnant."  
  
"Which you're not."  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"So," Ben said casually, "you want me to kick his ass?"  
  
"No!"  
  
"You sure? I could dump some hydrochloric acid on his -"  
  
"No!"  
  
"Please? I got this bat I've been dyin' to try out -"  
  
"NO!"  
  
This conversation went on for almost twelve minutes as they discussed various ways in which to inflict bodily harm on Spike, before April realized the test would be ready.  
  
"Who's gunna check it?" Andrea inquired quietly.  
  
"I will," April replied softly. She sighed and reluctantly walked into the bathroom. She cautiously approached the white stick sitting on the counter on a cup. Taking a deep breath, she pulled the test out and searched it for results. She grinned. "Hey, Andie! Spike knocked you up!"  
  
"Yes!" yelled Ben. "I mean. . .That bastard!" Andrea shot a glare at him.  
  
"There's no way I could be pregnant. I mean, we only found out he was human right after. . ." She trailed off, instead finishing the sentence with a smack to her forehead.  
  
"Right after you boned him?" Ben suggested.  
  
"So if he was human before and you didn't notice -"  
  
"Then there's every possibility I could be carrying Spike's child." 


	25. Party Time

***** Chapter 25: Party Time *****  
  
Buffy sighed as she gazed sympathetically down at Spike. He looked so pathetic, sitting on her couch with a cup of hot chocolate and mini marshmallows while he watched Passions.  
  
"Spike, get up," she ordered. He looked up at her.  
  
"What's that, love?"  
  
"Get off your ass and stop moping. It's extremely loser-ish."  
  
"What exactly do you expect me to do?"  
  
"We're going to Andrea's. And when we get there, I'm going to beat her until she admits she loves you." She grabbed Spike by the arm and yanked him to his feet.  
  
"Look, Slayer, I don't think -"  
  
"I don't care what you think." She set his drink on the nightstand, and pushed him out the door.  
  
The sun shone brightly as Buffy led him by the hand down the street to Andrea's house.  
  
"She doesn't want me," Spike protested.  
  
"Oh, yes, she does. She just doesn't realize how much. She may be a genius, but she can be downright dense at times."  
  
"I'm not sure that made a lot of sense," he said, frowning.  
  
"Too bad." They had reached the stone path that led to Andrea's front door.  
  
"I'm not going up there," he said vehemently.  
  
"Oh, yes, you are." Buffy drew back and hit him in the jaw.  
  
"Bloody hell," he cursed, rubbing his face. "That really hurts when you're human."  
  
"Go." Buffy stuck her arm out and pointed toward the door. He frowned indignantly and trudged up the path. He glared at her and pressed the doorbell. He glanced behind him when he heard footsteps inside the house, but Buffy had disappeared. The door opened, and there stood a good- looking blond man. Spike was shocked as jealousy spread through him like wild fire.  
  
"Who the bloody hell are you?" Ben arched an eyebrow.  
  
"I could ask you the same question."  
  
"I don't have 'nything to hide, mate. Name's Spike." Ben's eyes widened.  
  
"You're the guy that kno-" A hand clamped over Ben's mouth, effectively stifling anything he had been about to say.  
  
"Spike, this is Ben. My brother," Andrea introduced before removing her hand from Ben's mouth. Spike nodded.  
  
"Should've known. Looks like you." Andrea smiled slightly and pushed Ben out of the way so Spike could come inside.  
  
He frowned. He knew it was daytime, but was it not customary have the lights turned on when the curtains were drawn. He shrugged and turned to Andrea.  
  
"Look, pet, we have to talk," he started.  
  
"You mind getting the lights, please?" she asked, ignoring his statement. He groaned, but obediently flipped the switch.  
  
"Surprise!" He gaped at the Scoobies, who had appeared in Andrea's livingroom with the lights.  
  
"What's the occasion?" he asked.  
  
"It's your birthday," Dawn said. "Duh!"  
  
"Oh. Yeah, I guess it is."  
  
Everyone began a horrible rendition of 'Happy Birthday' and, in spite of himself, he blushed. Andrea shyly took his hand, brushing her thumb over his knuckles, and led him to the couch. Only once she had pushed him onto the table in front of him. The numbers '2' and '9' were spelled out in burning candles on the icing.  
  
"Oh, wow," he said, swallowing with emotion. "I haven't had a birthday party since 1836." They laughed at his obvious embarrassment.  
  
"Make a wish," ordered Tara. He grinned, thought for a moment and then blew out the candles.  
  
"Alright, Bleach Boy, present time," Xander said jokingly. Ever since Spike had become human, the two had become increasingly friendly.  
  
"Oh, you guys didn't have to-"  
  
"Yes, we did," Willow said. "Andrea said she'd kill us if we didn't." Spike smirked at Andrea, who shrugged.  
  
He opened Dawn's first. She'd spent three weeks allowance on the first season of Passions on DVD. He laughed when he opened a box of nicotine patches from Xander and snorted in amusement at the gift certificate for Snake's House of Leather from Willow. Not surprisingly, Anya had bought him a 10% off card for anything in the Stag Shop, the local adult toy store. Buffy had somehow been able to locate two tickets to a Sex Pistols concert in LA. Tara got him hot chocolate mix, complete with mini marshmallows. Even Giles got him a present; the latest Anne Rice vampire novel.  
  
Spike frowned. He'd opened a present from everyone but Andrea, yet there were still three wrapped gifts on the chair next to the TV.  
  
"Who are these from, love?" he asked curiously. Andrea just smiled and handed two of the presents to him.  
  
"You get mine last. Open those." He shrugged and tore into a smaller gift. An expensive-looking silver chain poured out of the box and he gaped.  
  
"Who's this from?"  
  
"As much as I'd like to say I can afford that, it wasn't me," Xander said. Spike looked questioningly around the room, his gaze eventually falling on Ben, Andrea's brother.  
  
"I confess," he sighed.  
  
"I just met you. Why would you get me a birthday present?"  
  
"You'll see," was the only explanation Ben offered.  
  
Rightly figuring he wouldn't get anything else from Ben, Spike turned to the other box. His jaw dropped when he held up a silk Wonder Bra. Andrea snorted at the look on Spike's face. He chuckled as the Scoobies erupted in laughter.  
  
"Who in their right bleeding minds would get me this?"  
  
"Read the card," Andrea gasped between gales of laughter, wiping tears from her cheeks. He lifted a small white slip of paper to his face.  
  
"'To Wonder Boy. Hope you like the Wonder Bra.'" He looked up. "Nice pun. Who's the wise guy?"  
  
"How many people do you know that call you Wonder Boy?" offered Dawn. Spike thought for a moment.  
  
"None. . .Wait a minute. Your cousin April got me a present?" Andrea nodded, starting to regain composure. "Why?"  
  
"Because she could. She's not the most. . .conventional person in the world."  
  
"I should say not," Giles observed.  
  
"Okay, cough it up, pet." She smiled and handed Spike his last present.  
  
A large paper envelope was hidden beneath masses of tissue paper inside a bag. He lifted it out and tentatively opened the package.  
  
The interior housed various papers and plastic cards. A drivers license with 'William Joseph Sinclair' on it, the birth date August 20th on it, complete with a year that would make him twenty-nine. A birth certificate. Credit cards. A health card. Even American citizenship papers.  
  
"Oh, wow," he said. "How's you get all this?" he asked Andrea. She smiled coyly.  
  
"I have my ways." She inhaled deeply. "I thought they'd come in handy sometime . . ."  
  
"They will. Thanks."  
  
"Let's have cake now."  
  
* * *  
  
"So if Ben's here, where's April?" Spike asked, licking some icing off his finger.  
  
"She wanted to go shopping. Asked me to make sure you got your present. I honestly had no idea what she'd given you," Andrea promised.  
  
They sat on the couch together, watching everyone else play pin-the- tail-on-Xander.  
  
"How did they take it when you told them about that poof and his poncy ritual?"  
  
"They were understandably pissed off. If you hadn't done it for him, Ben would have killed James. But I guess they weren't as surprised as I was. I feel so stupid. Why couldn't I see it before?"  
  
"Hey, it's alright. There's no way you could have known your boss was gunna play slice-and-dice with your organs."  
  
"Nice visual, there, Spike," she commented sarcastically. After a short pause, she spoke.  
  
"We gotta talk, love." She sighed.  
  
"I know. But I was still kinda hoping you'd develop sudden amnesia and I wouldn't have to deal with this." He chuckled.  
  
"No such luck, I'm afraid." Then his voice dropped all trace of humor. "These last weeks have been hell without you," he said, swallowing nervously. She turned to gaze into his intense blue eyes. She saw so much emotion there, she actually felt tears begin to well in her eyes. "Andrea, I love you. And I know you love me." He waited for her to nod before he continued. When she did, joy flashed through his eyes. "I want to spend the rest of my life loving you." He brushed her hair away from her face, not noticing or caring that everyone had stopped their game and was staring at them. "Marry me, Andrea." Her eyes widened as he pulled a velvety box out of his pocket and opened it. Inside, sat a beautiful sapphire on a yellow gold band, surrounded by tiny diamonds. He slowly slipped it on the third finger of her left hand.  
  
"Oh, my God. Oh, my God." He smiled softly.  
  
"Can I take that as a yes?"  
  
"Yes. Yes. I love you and I want to be with you forever." He hauled her into his lap, pulling her lips to meet his. They ignored the clapping and whistles that ensured around them, too wrapped up in each other to notice. Her lips parted invitingly and he slipped his tongue inside to flirt with hers.  
  
"Guys? Little eyes here," Buffy warned, slapping her hand over Dawn's eyes.  
  
"Buffy, for Pete's sake, I've seen people kiss before," she complained. Andrea pulled away from Spike, blushing as she gazed up at her friends and brother.  
  
"Let me be the first to congratulate you," Ben said from the corner. "But I think it fair to warn you that if you damage my baby sister emotionally, I will punish you in ways you can't even imagine."  
  
"I'll keep that in mind, mate." 


	26. Mistaken Identity

***** Chapter 26: Mistaken Identity *****  
  
Spike startled awake at around three o'clock on the morning. He looked around, but noticed nothing unusual. Except that Andrea wasn't lying next to him. There was an imprint of her head on the pillow next to him, but she was missing.  
  
"Prol'ly got up to get a drink," he told himself, smirking at why she would be thirsty in the first place. He tossed back the covers and stood, pulling the bed sheet around his waist. He moved to the bedroom door, running his fingers through his rumpled, bleach-blond curls.  
  
In the hallway, he heard the faint pounding of water. She was in the shower. The pounding stopped and the light beneath the door disappeared. He was bathed in darkness. The bathroom door opened and she stepped out. She hadn't seen him yet, it was too dark. Smirking, he crept up behind her and wrapped an arm around her toweled waist, the other hand creeping up her thigh under the towel. She let out a sharp scream and elbowed him in the nose.  
  
"Bloody hell," he cursed. "What was that for?" He clutched his bleeding nose as she flipped on the lights.  
  
"Who the hell are you?" screamed the furious red-head. He ignored her.  
  
"What are you doing here?"  
  
"I live here!"  
  
"So do I! Kind of. . ." The woman squinted at him.  
  
"Wonder Bra?" He groaned.  
  
"April." This was a statement, not a question.  
  
"What's the matter? I heard screaming," Andrea commented, stepping into the hall from the study. She joined them, wrapping her arm around Spike's waist.  
  
"Wonder Bra was trying to feel me up. Now he's bleeding."  
  
"Sodding humanity," he grumbled. "If I was a vampire. . ."  
  
"Oh, don't be such a baby," April scolded, reaching into the bathroom to get him a roll of toilet paper.  
  
"Poor Spike," Andrea giggled, ripping off some of the paper and gently held it to his nose. "Come on, let's go into the kitchen."  
  
She led the three of them downstairs into the kitchen, where Ben was making coffee.  
  
"I heard screaming," he explained, "and figured you'd want caffeine"  
  
"You're so thoughtful," Andrea said, beginning to tear up. Spike frowned, concerned.  
  
"You alright, pet?" He pushed her into a chair and stroked her hair away from her face.  
  
"She's fine. Those hormones can be a real bitch." Ben gave April an exasperated glance and she slapped a hand over her mouth. Luckily, Spike was so concerned about his fiancé that he hadn't been paying attention.  
  
"What's that, love?"  
  
"Nothing," she squeaked. Her eyes widened. "Andrea Dawn Smith! What is that on your finger?" Andrea jumped at the sudden yell, then smiled softly, wiping the tears away from her face.  
  
"Spike and I are getting married," she announced proudly before lightly kissing Spike on the lips.  
  
"I figured that much! How could you not tell me this the moment I got in the house? I am so mad at you right now!"  
  
"I'm sorry, but you only got home, like, ten minutes ago. And I was busy writing." April opened her mouth to speak, but Andrea cut her off. "And I want you to be my maid of honor." April smothered a joyful smile.  
  
"Duh. We decided that when we were fifteen." Only then did she allow herself to break out in a grin of happiness. "But I'm still glad you asked. Oh, my God, I'm so happy for you guys."  
  
"Same goes for us," Spike conceded, pulling Andrea into his arms for a long, passionate kiss.  
  
"Aw, come on. Get a room," Ben whined, covering his eyes with his hands. Spike smirked and winked at him. His gaze accidentally wandered to the fridge, and he frowned, noticing a strange black and white photo stuck on the fridge door.  
  
"What's that?" he asked curiously. Andrea followed his gaze and smiled, thinking how perfect an opportunity this was. She pulled out of his arms and moved to the fridge to remove the picture from the kitchen appliance. Then she showed it to him.  
  
"See this little black thing that looks kinda like a peanut?" she asked, pointing to the shape.  
  
"Yes, pet."  
  
"That's your baby," she announced tentatively. He stared at her like he hadn't heard her correctly.  
  
"My what?"  
  
"Baby. Fetus. Child. Tiny human. Son or daughter." Ben pulled out another chair from the table.  
  
"Sit down, man. You look kinda pale," his future brother-in-law advised. Spike obeyed.  
  
"How. . .I mean, what. . .I don't. . .How?"  
  
"Well, I don't exactly know. But I think it's because you turned human right before we. . ."  
  
"Boned," Ben supplied.  
  
A/N: Okay, look. I got this problem. I HAVE NO CLUE HOW TO END THIS STORY!!!!!!!!!!!!! Somebody, please, help me. Please, please, please, please, please, please??? I'm over my head. I need advice. Oh, please God help me. . . And if you submit an idea that I don't use, don't be offended, I just liked someone else's better. Joking!! Okay, I have to go now. I kinda gotta pee. And do my math homework *shakes fist angrily* DAMN YOU MATH!!! 


	27. Guess Who?

A/N: Okay, I got my idea from a friend of mine, not any of you guys. Don't feel bad. I'm also pretty sure none of you were expecting this, and please don't hate me. Everything will work out. And this IS NOT the last chapter okay? I'll tell you when it is.  
  
***** Chapter 27: Guess Who? *****  
  
?Do you guys mind leaving is alone, please?? Andrea quietly asked April and Ben.  
  
?Sure.? They quickly filed out of the kitchen.  
  
?You're pregnant,? Spike said slowly, seeming not to comprehend what he'd been told. She nodded slowly. ?Weren't you going to tell me at all??  
  
?What??  
  
?You were just going to have an abortion and not tell me,? he accused.  
  
?Of course I was going to tell you. If I wasn't, I wouldn't have hung the ultrasound photo on the fridge.?  
  
?At least tell the truth.?  
  
?Spike, you're not making any sense.? Tears formed in her confused hazel eyes.  
  
?I. . .I have to go . . .? He ran to the door, scooped up his duster and tore out of the house.  
  
* * *  
  
?I can't believe he'd do this to her,? April whispered to Ben, gazing in at Andrea, who was curled up on a kitchen chair with a cup of coffee, her eyes red-rimmed from crying. Jill was on the table, her head resting on Andrea's knee as the cat gazed sympathetically up at her owner.  
  
?I'll murder the bastard,? Ben promised menacingly, rubbing his knuckles.  
  
?What's his problem? I mean, really. He loves her. She loves him. He asked her to marry him and she accepted. What more could he want??  
  
* * *  
  
?You sodding ponce,? Spike cursed at himself. He sighed and roughly threw an ashtray at the wall of his apartment. He'd just made the biggest mistake of his entire life. Andrea would never forgive him for this. How could he just walk out on her?  
  
He just got a little scared, that's all. He hasn't been able to have kids for one hundred and some-odd years and POOF he's knocked up the woman he planned to marry. He's allowed to be a bit freaked, right?  
  
He'll just go back and apologize. He'll explain that he just needed a little time to think about things. Like her. She wanted time. She got time. Why couldn't he have time? It's only fair.  
  
?Stop trying to reason it out, you poof,' he thought. ?Just tell her that you're deeply sorry, you love her and you still want to marry her, if she'll have you.'  
  
He grabbed his coat, slipped it on over his shoulders and left his apartment. He hurried down the steps, hoping to God that the damage he'd done wasn't irreparable. He pushed open the door to the street and stepped out onto the sidewalk. Just to save himself some time, he ducked into an alley that he knew was a shortcut to Revello Drive.  
  
A dark haired woman with eyes that glinted almost black stood in the alley. She looked almost familiar, but he couldn't put a name to her face.  
  
?Hello, Spike,? she greeted. He stopped in front of her, frowning down at her as she swung her arm to his neck. He felt a tiny pinch and some pressure. The drug took effect almost immediately and he slumped to the pavement, unconscious.  
  
* * *  
  
?I'm not sure if we should leave her,? April hesitated. ?One of us should stay here with her.?  
  
?I'm fine,? Andrea called from the kitchen. ?Go.?  
  
?Do you want me to stay here?? Ben offered. Andrea shook her head in a negative reply.  
  
?No. Go with April. The plane will be here soon, and I would like a little time alone before Cody, Sydney and Lucifer show up here too.? Ben nodded in understanding.  
  
?Alright. I guess.?  
  
?Maybe we should take all the sharp objects,? April suggested, concerned.  
  
?I'm not going to kill myself, you jerk,? Andrea assured, forcing a smile. ?Go get your family. I'll be fine. The twenty-one year old can spend a few hours alone in her locked house.?  
  
?You're sure??  
  
?Yes. I have Jill to keep me company. Get lost.? April sighed. Ben helped her on with her coat and they bade farewell to Andrea, who waved slightly as the door clicked behind them.  
  
* * *  
  
The airport was crowded in LA as people boarded and disembarked various flights. April and Ben waited patiently at the gate for flight 737 Toronto to Los Angeles. Before long, a tall man with curly brown hair and hazel eyes stepped out of the gate, carrying a toddler in his arms. He rushed over to them.  
  
?Hey, babycakes,? he greeted April, kissing her softly.  
  
?Hi, Mommy,? Sydney said with a huge grin. April took her daughter in her arms. ??Lo, Ben,? she greeted. He affectionately rubbed her head, shaking hands with Cody.  
  
?Let's go get Lucifer from the baggage claim, huh, sweetie?? April suggested. They started off in a different direction.  
  
?Mommy, what's garbage lame??  
  
* * *  
  
She watched the four of them move to the baggage claim to get their dog and their suitcases. This was going to be more difficult than it was with Spike, the loser, but it wasn't impossible. She stayed about three feet away from them at all times, and they never even noticed they were being tailed.  
  
Just as they happy family was about to exit the airport, she slipped ahead of them, hurrying outside to her previously selected cab.  
  
She knew that Andrea's convertible wasn't big enough to hold all the luggage, plus four people and a dog, and rightly assumed they'd taken a cab to the airport. She slid into the front seat, hoping she'd gotten all of the cabbie's blood out of the seats as April, Cody, Ben, Syndey and Lucifer stood next to the car.  
  
?Will you allow a dog in your cab?? April asked. She only nodded as they slid into the seats. 


	28. Going Schitzo

***** Chapter 28: Going Schitzo *****  
  
"That's it, Jill. I can't take it anymore." Her cat just stared at her. She couldn't sit around and worry about Spike for one second longer. The bastard had overreacted and now he was being downright inconsiderate. She had to go fond him and kick his ass.  
  
Andrea ripped a piece of paper off the pad next to her phone and scribbled a note on it, incase April, Ben and Cody got back before she did. Then she slid on a jacket and yanked open the door.  
  
"You gunna help me find him?" she asked Jill. The cat hesitated before bounding out the door ahead of her. "Okay, babe, where'd he go?"  
  
Jill ran to the intersection of Revello and Elm, Andrea not too far behind, then across and north a few blocks to the downtown part of Sunnydale. Her feline sense of smell almost led Jill into Spike's apartment building, but she caught a fresher scent in the alley behind them.  
  
"What the hell?"  
  
There was a hypodermic needle lying on the ground. And it was cleaner than the alley would suggest of something older. Andrea carefully picked it up and sniffed it. The clear liquid it had once held had left a sweet smell on the hypo.  
  
"This can't be good."  
  
Jill scratched at her foot to get her attention, then ran out of the alley. She hopped a fence and they found themselves in Restfield Cemetery. On the other side of the cemetery was a large building that looked like an abandoned warehouse. And Andrea was fairly certain it hadn't been there last time she'd patrolled. She took off toward it at full speed.  
  
"Once her journey was halted by a heavy steel door, the likes of which she could not kick open, Andrea stared at it and felt heat collect in her fingertips as she muttered a charm. The door flew open when a bolt of electricity left her finger and zapped the lock.  
  
She rushed inside the warehouse, stopping dead in her tracks when she saw April, Cody, a whimpering Sydney, Ben and Spike all tied, gagged and propped against the wall.  
  
"Took you long enough. I firgured you'd have been here hours ago," came a feminine voice from behind her. She whirled around.  
  
The woman was tall and thin. Pretty enough, with dark hair and eyes.  
  
"Who the fuck are you?" Andrea asked with a frown.  
  
"Who am I? Who am I?" She paced annoyingly back and forth.  
  
"Is there an echo in here? Answer the damn question before I lose my patience."  
  
"I don't think so, blondie. I'm makin' the rules here." Andrea was grudgingly silent for a moment.  
  
"What do you want from me?"  
  
"Revenge," the woman admitted.  
  
"I haven't ever met you before. How can I have done anything that constitutes revenge?" She ignored her question.  
  
"Do you love your brother, Andrea? Do you love your family?" She opened her mouth to ask what the hell that had to do with anything, but was cut off when the woman continued. "Do you know what it's like to have everything you care about ripped away from you by someone you've never met?" Andrea shook her head. "Imagine what it would feel like. Like you've had a vital part of you torn from your body and you'll never get it back. Like there isn't a reason for you to keep living. Now multiply that feeling by a thousand and you can imagine what it's like to lose a twin."  
  
A twin. Shit.  
  
"James never told me he had a sister," she said softly.  
  
"Of course not. He was afraid you'd want to meet me and Dad would find out about you. He never intended to tell anyone about you. Wanted to keep you all to himself. I only found out because I followed him one night when he went to see you. He loved you. And you killed him." James's sister pulled a gun out of the waistband of her jeans. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Spike jerk against his bonds. At least he didn't hate her enough to want her dead.  
  
"The only person James ever loved was himself. And I hate to take you back to grade school, but he tried to kill me first." James's sister pretended not to hear her.  
  
"Not I'm going to kill you." She raised the gun and aimed it between Andrea's eyes. Again Spike jerked against the ropes, trying to say something, his speech impaired by the gag. "What now?" She moved to Spike, gun still trained on Andrea, and removed his gag.  
  
"She didn't kill your ponce of a brother. I did." Her eyes flashed dangerously. Andrea's eyes widened.  
  
"No, he didn't. I did. Don't listen to him." She replaced the gag.  
  
"No matter. Back to my original plan. Have you watch while I kill everyone you love. Now, who should we start with?" Andrea glared at her. "I just can't decide. Oh, I know." She pointed at Cody. "Eeny." Sydney. "Meeny." April. "Miney." Spike. "Moe." Ben. "Catch a-" Back to Cody. "-tiger-" Sydney. "-by the-" April. "-toe." Spike. "If he-" Ben again. "-hollers-" Cody. "-let him-" Sydney. Poor girl was still crying softly. "-go." April. "Eeny." Then Spike. "Meeny." Next Ben. "Miney." And finally Cody. "Moe."  
  
"No!" Andrea screamed at the same time the gun fired. Sydney's cryng intensified and April whimpered. She started toward Cody's bleeding body, but James's sister pointed the gun at her again.  
  
"One more step and lover boy over there gets it next," she threatened, nodding toward Spike.  
  
"Alright. I've had enough of you," Andrea sighed. The other woman dew the trigger on the gun back. She knew that Andrea wasn't nearly fast enough to knock the gun away before she'd had a chance to fire off another shot.  
  
Andrea's eyes turned from their beautiful hazel to a dangerous blood red. She raised her hand toward James's sister and the gun fell from her grasp. Her hands flew to her neck as she was lifted into the air. Andrea kept her hand toward the woman, effectively cutting off her air supply by magic. With her free hand, she gestured toward Cody, magically pulling the bullet from his body and healing the wound.  
  
Spike watched, wide-eyed, as Cody coughed against the gag and slowly regained consciousness. April whimpered again, this time in relief. But Spike wasn't paying attention to them. His eyes were on Andrea.  
  
She'd gone totally schitzo on this bint.  
  
Just before she lost consciousness, Andrea used her magic to throw the woman back against the warehouse wall. She growled and made a slashing movement with her hand, red welts appearing on her enemy's face.  
  
"You gunna kill me without even knowing my name?" She grinned weakly.  
  
"I was planning on it, yeah."  
  
"It's Sarah. My name is Sarah."  
  
"Congratulations. Can I kill you now?" Without waiting for a reply, Andrea gave a flick of her wrist and broke Sarah's arm. She walked slowly toward her. "I'm not going to let magic cheat me out of this." Then she leaned in close and slowly, placing her hands on either side of Sarah's face, whispered, "I'm sorry about James," and gave a vicious twist. She heard a sickening *snap* and watched her slump to the floor. 


	29. For Eternity

***** Chapter 29: For Eternity *****  
  
One Month Later  
  
"Do you, Andrea, promise to love, honor and cherish this man, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, from this day forward, as long as you both shall live?"  
  
"I do." She looked into Spike's eyes as she said those two tiny words that would bind them for eternity. He smiled lovingly, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand. He repeated the words when so prompted by the reverend.  
  
"The rings, please."  
  
Xander handed the rings to the man, which he in turn gave to Andrea and Spike. They slipped them on each other's fingers, repeating the phrase, "With this ring, I thee wed."  
  
"If anyone has reason why these two should not be wed, speak now or forever hold your peace."  
  
Andrea half expected someone to jump up and yell, "STOP!" at the top of their lungs at that moment. The day had been too perfect. Something had to go wrong. Thankfully, everyone remained both silent and seated.  
  
"Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife." He smiled at Spike. "You may kiss the bride."  
  
Spike dragged her against him, gently pushing her lips apart to deepen the kiss. The crowd laughed when Andrea pulled away, giving Spike a try-that-again-in-public-and-you're-spending-the-honeymoon-on-the-couch look. He responded with his trademark smirk.  
  
"Ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasue to present to you Mr and Mrs William Sinclair." The audience cheered, whistling madly as the grinning and obviously in love bride and groom walked arm in arm down the aisle between the chairs.  
  
* * *  
  
"Wow, that was such a beautiful ceremony," Buffy said to Willow, who grinned at her friend because Buffy was still a little miffed that Dawn had caught the bouquet.  
  
"I know. I would never have thought of a nighttime ceremony. Outside. The stars were so pretty. And I couldn't believe she asked us to be bride's maids."  
  
"Yeah. April I can understand as Maid of Honor, but Andrea's only known us for, like, two months. We did save her life, though." Willow nodded.  
  
"They're so happy together. And with a baby on the way, too. I'm so happy for them." Buffy smiled and a few seconds later, snorted.  
  
"Who would've thought that Spike, of all people, would marry a slayer?" Willow laughed.  
  
"It's true. He was all 'I'll kill you on Saturday.' Way too busy for on-the-job romance."  
  
"Tell me about it. And remember when he went out with Harmony? God, she was even worse as a vampire than she was human, because she was immortal." Willow rolled her eyes in agreement, before changing the subject.  
  
"Hey, I thought bride's maid's dresses were supposed to be ugly. These are beautiful."  
  
The dresses Andrea had chosen for Buffy, Willow and April were a beautiful ice blue with sparkly beads placed strategically on the silky material.  
  
"I know. But the reason bride's maid's dresses are ugly is to keep the focus on the bride. Even with us in dresses this beautiful, Andrea looks like an angel."  
  
"Does she ever! I cried when I first saw her," the red-head admitted.  
  
"Yeah, Will. I was there."  
  
Andrea and Cody danced slowly to the music.  
  
"Sydney was a great flower girl, Cody," Andrea told him.  
  
"Thanks." He paused. "If Spike ever does anything . . .Just let me know and I'll beat him up." She laughed.  
  
"I appreciate the offer, but I've got half the northern hemisphere offering. I'll pass, but thanks."  
  
Spike lightly tapped Cody on the shoulder.  
  
"Mind if I cut in, mate?"  
  
"Not at all." Cody smiled and moved away to find his wife as Spike snaked an arm around Andrea's waist. He leaned in close to her.  
  
"Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?" His breath tickled her ear.  
  
"Yes, but feel free to tell me again."  
  
"You look beautiful."  
  
* * *  
  
"Oh, my God. This hotel is so beautiful," Andrea gushed as Spike unlocked the door to the honeymoon suite.  
  
"I know, pet. You sure know how to pick 'em." She was about to enter, when he stopped her. She looked at him questioningly. "I get to carry you over the threshold." She vehemently shook her head.  
  
"No way. That's a stupid tradition."  
  
"If you don't go willingly, I'll have no choice but to overpower you." He smiled crookedly.  
  
"Oh, is that right?" She squealed when he effortlessly lifted her up and tossed her over his shoulder.  
  
"Yeah, love. That's right."  
  
"Put me down, you jerk, or I'm cutting you off." He lightly threw her down onto the lush king-size bed.  
  
"You wouldn't."  
  
"Try me," she dared. He crawled up the bed, spreading her thighs easily.  
  
"You can't resist my sexy accent and my cocky smirk," he accused, lazily kissing her jaw.  
  
"Can you say egotistical?" She pushed him away, trying not to smile as she attempted to slide off the bed. He caught her around the waist, 'accidentally' letting his hand slide up under her shirt.  
  
"You love it."  
  
"You wish."  
  
"I wish you would hold still so I could get you undressed." She grinned, screaming when he tossed her back into the mountain of pillows. She dutifully fought him, not really trying, as he unsnapped her jeans and yanked them off. He wrestled her shirt over her head as she defiantly put up a token struggle.  
  
"No. I'm mad at you. Pig," she lied, laughing as she swatted away his hand when he attempted to remove her bra.  
  
"Oh, come on, babe. I'm sorry." He heard her breath catch in her throat as he teased her nipple through the red lace of her bra. She whimpered. "Forgive me?"  
  
"Sure." He smiled and lightly nipped her shoulder with his teeth, expertly flicking open her bra. His skilled fingers roamed freely over her bare skin.  
  
"Good." With his free hand, he tore her panties from her body, shredding the scrap of fabric.  
  
"Hey," she protested weakly, both at the destruction of her undergarments and because his warm hands left her body to unsnap his jeans.  
  
Without fully removing his jeans, he thrust into her and she moaned, clutching at the thin fabric of his t-shirt. The denim pants scraped against the sensitive inside of her thighs. His hands tilted her hips toward him as he repeatedly pushed himself deep inside her, shoving each of them quickly toward orgasm. Spike lightly kissed the swell of her breast as he reached between their sweat-slicked bodies and pressed his thumb lightly against the tiny bud of nerve endings hidden beneath her slick folds. Andrea cried out as wave after wave of orgasmic sensation crashed over her. She shuddered violently beneath him as he pumped his seed deep inside of her.  
  
"Spike," she whispered a few minutes after he'd collapsed on top of her as their breathing slowly returned to normal.  
  
"What, love?"  
  
"One of us has too many clothes on. . . And it isn't me." 


	30. Epilogue: Uh Oh

***** Epilogue: Uh Oh *****  
  
Five Months After the Honeymoon  
  
"Aw, man," Andrea whined, smoothing her expensive black dress over her swollen stomach. "I really have to pee." April snorted. She'd flown down from Canada with Ben for the party.  
  
"Just wait 'til you start having to pee every time you run. . .Or laugh. . .Or blink."  
  
"Congratulations on your new book, Andrea," said Megan, Ben's new girlfriend. Andrea smiled warmly.  
  
"Thank you. I hadn't realized you'd read it."  
  
"I did. It was really good. Where'd you get the idea? I mean, it's fantastic! Two vampire slayers, one in love with a vampire, and her best friend tries to kill her. Then the vamp turns human and they live happily ever after. I had a hard time remembering there's no such thing as vampires." The brunette laughed lightly. She was in for a surprise when Ben told her. "And I thought the title was cool. 'And Then There Were Two'."  
  
"Who's up for limbo?" Xander asked. Spike grinned.  
  
"I'll try anything once." Buffy gaped at him.  
  
"You guys! This is a professional party. No limbo. Andrea's trying to make an impression on the media. And also, you've never limboed?"  
  
"Mr Sinclair?" A redhaired man approached Spike with a pad of paper and a pen in hand.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I'd like to ask you a few questions about your wife. I'm doing an article on her for the paper. I'm Matt McDougall with the New York Times." His jaw fell open and he ran his fingers through his bleached curls.  
  
"The New York Times wants to do an article on Andrea?"  
  
"Certainly. Mrs Sinclair is a very talented writer."  
  
Andrea smiled at Spike from across the room. He looked delicious in a black blazer and dress pants, with a silk shirt the same blue as his eyes. He was tieless, the collar of his shirt left open. She just wanted to -  
  
She frowned, feeling a slight twinge of pain in her abdomen. She thought she'd gotten rid of her stomach ache. It had disappeared just before the party. Her back ache hadn't stopped, though. She felt the pain again, stronger this time, and she clutched her stomach, using the table to keep her from doubling over. April frowned.  
  
"Hey, Andie, you okay?" Andrea shook her head, her eyes widening when she felt a warm gush of liquid between her legs.  
  
"No, I'm not. April, my water just broke."  
  
THE END  
  
A/N: Hey guys! I'm finally done! I'm so excited! Lots of feedback would be nice. Just so you know, I've never been pregnant or married, so sorry if I messed those up. Also, I'm thinking of doing a sequel, but if I do I'm not going to write it until I finish my other 2 fics. I've got my hands full. Well, see you around. Hope you enjoyed the story! -- Andie 


	31. Hey

HEY For those of you who liked this story, GO NOW!!! Go read the sequel!!! And Then There Were Three!!! Especially Sorrow!!! ALL OF YOU!!!!  
  
lol. Thanks for reading this. I appreciate all the reviews. Love you.  
  
Andie 


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